Thunderstruck
by lottielovebuzz
Summary: Dean Winchester, a half-blood Gryffindor joins Dumbledore's Army in his 6th Year and finally meets Castiel Novak, a Muggle-born Hufflepuff. After Castiel manages to produce Patronus on his first try, Dean is immediately curious about the quiet Prefect and ends up forming an unlikely friendship that doesn't go as smoothly as they wish.
1. Chapter I: Desperate Times

**_Hello! So, with my other Supernatural longfic "Highway to Hell" finished, I have decided to post this. What is this? you ask, well, I'll tell you. This is a Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover fic. It takes place in the HP 'verse and follows HP canon - so basically all the legends, myths and such from SPN don't exist here. It is told in 3rd person limited to Dean's head. So, some thoughts/feelings/interpretations are going to be a little biased as it's Dean's head. _  
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**_It will be an eventual Dean/Cas fic, so if you don't like that pairing hit the back button. I wrote this for NaNoWriMo this year (I WON!). 11 chapters out of 14 are written, but by the time they others are to be posted, they'll be written. _**

**_Anyway, enough about what this story is... let's get onto the story, eh?_**

**_Disclaimer - I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter, the only thing I own is the story line and anything that you don't recognise from either fandoms._**

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><p><strong>Thunderstruck.<strong>

**Chapter I: Desperate Times.**

Platform Nine and ¾s is always the same; billows of steam rolling out from the scarlet train, a constant hum from all the chatter from the people - students talking to other students, parents saying goodbye to their children, reminding them to be safe, be cautious and to _stay out of trouble!_

That's one of the hardest thing for Dean Winchester to witness; a mother embracing her child, pressing a kiss to their head, some Mother's shedding tears - especially the ones who's child is just starting their first year at Hogwarts - and telling them that they love them, and demanding they write weekly, knowing full well they'll never get a letter from their child that often.

He's not the jealous type; doesn't get jealous when he hears everyone's stories about all the presents they get - whether for birthdays or Christmases or just impromptu spoiling from their parents - or when he hears his friends talk about how serious their relationship with their boyfriend or girlfriend is going. Dean just isn't the jealous type, but _those _sights seem to change that for a split moment, because it's something that he will never get again. Presents will come soon; love will come eventually... but that... no.

He shakes his head. He can't think about that. Not now; not ever, really.

He picks up the two trunks and hauls them onto the train, and sometimes he wishes he didn't have to carry the two, because he honestly misses caressing the shiny, scarlet body of the train as he pulls himself onto the train.

Not that he misses it that much, he just wishes that his scrawny ass brother had some muscle in him so that he could lift his trunk for an extended period of time without whining like a baby about the weight, and how sore his arms are getting, and that's usually when Dean rolls his eyes, tugs the trunk from his grasp and tells him he's never gonna get a girl if he doesn't get some strength in his arms - "How're you gonna carry her about if you can't even carry a _trunk_?"

'Right, where are you going, Sammy?' Dean questions, ignoring the way Sam grits his teeth together at the nickname he's had since he was nothing but a baby and has only recently started to hate; Dean thinks it's nothing more than that annoying-as-hell teenage stage that he seemed to have missed out on altogether. For some reason.

'Just in here,' Sam replies, opening the compartment where a blonde girl with shoulder length, curly hair sits. She beams at Sam when he enters and Dean can do nothing but grin as he hauls the trunk up and onto the rail above their heads as he sees Sam sit down beside the girl from the corner of his eye.

Another boy is in the compartment as well, but he's reading the _Daily Prophet_, his brows furrowed tightly as he does so and Dean decides that he was informing the young blonde of what it said before Sam walked in.

'See you guys later,' Dean mutters, sending a teasing grin to his brother, who just rolls his eyes and nudges his head to the side, silently hinting that his brother was to leave his compartment immediately and not embarrass him any further. Dean takes the hint and slides the door open again, but before he leaves the compartment completely, he gives his brother a grin and advises, 'Don't be too much of a nerd, Sammy!', and manages to catch the annoyed glare before he turns and goes to find his friends.

He's making his way through the train carriages, his head whipping from side to side as he gazes in to the compartments trying to find the familiar faces of his friends, when he suddenly barges into something hard and he stumbles back, his eyes whipping to the front to see what he had just walked into.

'Oh, sorry man, didn't see you there.'

His eyes rake over the boy - though really, Dean thinks he's actually the same age as Dean himself, and is actually in his year; Sixth Year. He can't be entirely sure as he doesn't know _everyone _in the Year, but he's sure he's seen him in some of his friend's classes when he's been waiting on them. Dean then notices the yellow and black colours on his robes - which he's already wearing for some reason - and quickly realises that he's a Hufflepuff, which would explain why Dean doesn't really know his name, he very rarely spends time outside of his own House, Gryffndor. It's not that he doesn't like the other three Houses, though he does have a dislike for Slytherin if he's honest.

The next thing he realises about the person he bumped into is his eyes; how _blue _they are. Dean's seen plenty of blue eyes in his time, but nothing like his; they're striking and almost _azure_ and Dean can't help but think that he should've been in Ravenclaw, just so the blue and silver colours would compliment those eyes and make them stand out even more; though that _did_ seem pretty impossible. And wow, okay, where did that rubbish come from?

'It's no problem.' Blue-Eyes replies, his voice much deeper and rougher than Dean ever thought it would be, and he wants to ask him more - like his name, for starters - but decides that wouldn't sound too good. Being at school with him for six years and not knowing his name? Yeah, that wouldn't give the best first impression.

So, instead, Dean just gives him a small grin and claps him on the shoulder as he passes, a small apology for barging into him and he continues to make his way down the corridor of the train carriage, his head turning from side to side again as he restarts his search for his friends.

He doesn't look back as he walks away, though he is tempted to, because there was just _something_ about the bright blue eyes, messy black haired Hufflepuff that was different from the others. But he doesn't, because that'd be weird staring at the person you just walked into, so instead he just keeps walking until he finds the compartment with his friends inside it.

They're in the middle of an argument when he walks in, and they don't stop even when he sits down beside Jo. He grins to himself, shaking his head as he watches how she clenches her hands into fists and he tries to get a hint at what _this_ argument is about - because when are they _not _arguing? - but after a minute or two, they still haven't let anything slip, so he clears his throat.

'What's this one about now?'

They fall silent and their heads whip around and their gaze lands on Dean, who's grin widens because that means they didn't even hear him coming in. Their little arguments were never serious; they're always about the stupidest little things, but Dean knows better than anyone that it's just the way siblings are - even though Jo and Ash aren't _really _related, they've known each other long enough that they're pretty much brother and sister.

'He said that if I had to get into a fight with Angelina Johnson that _she'd _win!'

Dean turns back to Ash with a raised eyebrow, 'Seriously? You've known Jo since you were five-years-old and you don't think she'd kick Johnson's ass?'

'All I'm saying is Angelina is nippy; you've seen her on the Quidditch pitch, Dean.'

'Yeah, but I've seen Jo wield a _gun _before, and she's -'

'Kicked your ass a _million _times,' Jo cuts him off, a grin on her plump lips as she crosses her arms over her chest, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders with the movement.

Dean says nothing and only rolls his eyes, because to be honest, she's telling the truth and he's not going to go and deny that; not with her in the same room anyway, seeing as it would lead to her trying to prove him wrong and he's not really in the mood to wrestle with her, and then embarrass himself when she definitely wins. Jo is a sneaky fighter; especially when it is a _real_ fight, she uses the innocent look that she has to fool her opponent and then makes her move when they are distracted enough.

She is sneaky and determined and quite a clever little fighter. Angelina is a little bit the same, but Dean is willing to bet that if they did ever get into a fight, Jo would come out on top because hey, she has the most experience with it after all. Angelina is vicious on the Quidditch pitch, but is the complete opposite when she's off it.

'I swear it, Ash, say something _stupid _like that again and I'll _show _you just what I'm capable off. Lucky for your nerdy ass, I've never felt the need to try to kick it. Do not make me change my mind.' Jo declares and Dean chuckles as he reaches up and scratches his neck, turning his head to the side and as he does, he catches Blue-Eyes walking by, and feels a little bit weird when he doesn't notice him; he had no idea how people could do that, walk by a compartment and not have a little nosy inside. It was something Dean always did, though he knew it was annoying and wrong, he couldn't help it.

Blue-Eyes disappears and Dean shakes his head, because what the hell is he playing at? He still doesn't know the dude's name and doesn't even _need _to know the dude's name. He was a Hufflepuff and they didn't share a class. Chances are he'll never really see him again.

'Right, are you two gonna put the claws away, because we all know that yeah, Jo would kick Angelina's ass and yeah, Jo would kick your ass, Ash.' Dean grins. 'Now, are we gonna concentrate on more important things, like who's the poor bastard that's gonna be teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts?'

Everyone knows there's a curse for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, seeing as any professor that decides to take it doesn't last more than a year. Dean has been at the school for, well, this'll be his sixth year now, and he's had six Defence teachers; the majority of them were okay, but some - like that asshole Gilderoy Lockhart - just don't know what they're talking about, and Dean believes the only reason they got the position was because no-one else wanted it!

'Only one way to find out.' Jo responds and Dean nods his head because yep, they'd have to wait till the Welcoming Feast before the found out who their new teacher was going to be.

So, with this in mind, he turns to conversation to another topic and successfully doesn't think about Blue-Eyes again.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Changing into school uniform on the train is never a good thing; especially for Jo who has it worse than Dean and Ash, but they make it work. Jo's used to Dean's stupid little comments by now, and has started making her own whenever he pulls his t-shirt off to put his school shirt on. Not that it's weird. Along with Charlie Bradbury - the red-haired genius in Ravenclaw that shares the same obsession for the Muggle shows Star Trek and Star Wars - Jo is the little sister he never wanted.

Even though they did share a kiss at one point, but hey, they were drunk and celebrating Harry's win in the Triwizard Tournament and they've sworn to never think or talk about it again. So, it's all good.

They leave the train and Dean automatically starts scanning the crowd for Sam, even though he's in Second Year now, Dean can't help but look after him. He steered him to where he was supposed to go in his first year, and he's going to do the same this year, because how you get to the castle is different in your first year, and he needs to make sure his brother doesn't get lost or do something stupid, like go the boats instead of the carriages!

'You do realise he's thirteen, right?' Jo questions, raising a blonde eyebrow at him and his green eyes land on her instead of scanning the crowd. 'And that this is his second year?'

Dean rolls his eyes, 'Shut up, Jo.'

It's Jo's turn to roll her eyes, but she says nothing as she sits her trunk in the line, ready to be taken up to the castle by God only knows what. Truth is, she's not sure whether someone just enchants them to move by themselves, or if the elves maybe do it; all she knows is that one minute she's leaving it in the line of trunks, and the next, she goes to the Gryffindor Common Room after the Welcoming Feast and it's suddenly in her dorm.

She turns back to Dean and she grinds her teeth together when she notices him looking through the crowd once more, trying to find his little brother.

'No wonder he pretends he doesn't know you.' She mutters. It's supposed to be under her breath; a comment that he's not supposed to catch, but truthfully, she _wants _him to hear it, which is probably why she says it louder than she normally would.

Dean, however, does the clever thing and ignores her, only sending her a small glare before he goes back to scanning the crowd. So, he won't go over and talk to his brother then, or tell him what to do, but he just wants to make sure that hey, he got off the train and isn't currently heading back to London, because that just wouldn't do.

He sees Sam, standing with the blonde girl that was in the compartment with him, Jessica Moore, and the other boy that Dean has no idea about. Not that he's really surprised that he doesn't know about Sam's other friends, all the boy does is talk about Jessica, or Jess as he calls her. The boy is smitten.

Dean was convinced of this when he teasingly told his younger brother to ask her out, and ended up having to endure a twenty minute rant on how Dean was an idiot, and that Sam was only thirteen, and "who the hell _dates_ in Second Year?".

He's realised one thing, jokes about Jess are off limit if he wants to keep calling Sam his brother. And that's a little bit more important than a quick comment about those doe-eyes that his brother always has when talking about her.

'First Years, this way!' A voice calls, and that's not the voice that normally says that. Hagrid, the half-Giant groundkeeper/Care of Magical Creatures teacher, is normally the one that calls the First Years and steers them towards the boats.

Dean frowns and looks around, only to find Blue-Eyes standing there, ushering the First Years towards the lake.

'Where's Hagrid?' He questions aloud, not really realising that Blue-Eyes is standing close to him and could probably hear him. Well, not until Blue-Eyes looks at him, a crease between his eyes, and then answers him in that same deep voice that Dean still can't get used to.

'I'm not sure. Professor Grubbly-Plank is here, and there was a problem with one of the boats that he has to fix; he asked the Prefects to get the First Years ready.'

Dean nods, watching as Blue-Eyes narrows his eyes at him for a second, almost in confusion or thought , before he minutely shakes his head and turns his attention back to the crowd of First Years standing around him.

'Right, come on!'

It isn't until Ash nudges Dean's ribs that he realises he's still staring after Blue-Eyes, and after making a noise that's somewhere between clearing his throat and coughing, he makes his way towards the horseless carriages. He pulls himself onto the first empty one that he gets to, and quickly starts a conversation about NEWTs this year so that neither Jo nor Ash say anything about his staring.

But as soon as Ash and Jo start talking, Dean falls silent because it all makes sense now. He was confused earlier about why Blue-Eyes was in his school uniform after only five minutes into the train ride, but if he was a Prefect, then it made sense. They were supposed to be the "example", and a lot of other crap that Dean just absolutely couldn't do. Though, he doubts he was _ever _considered for the role of Prefect, seeing as he can barely go a week without getting detention.

'Does anyone know who our Prefects are?' Dean questions randomly before he curses himself, because now he's let slip that he's been thinking about Blue-Eyes. Staring and now thinking? And he _still _doesn't know the guy's name!

Jo and Ash give him a _look _that he doesn't like, but thankfully, they say nothing on that and instead answer his question.

'Hermione and Ron, I saw them in their robes patrolling the carriage before you came in.'

Dean hums and wonders why they didn't pick Harry, but then realises that it's probably because he causes more trouble than he would stop, so probably wouldn't be the best example. If he had to stop someone from being in the corridors after hours or something, they could probably just turn and say "but _you _did it!". Probably another reason they didn't pick Dean, either; the same thing could be said about him.

After his awkward slip, they sit in silence as they head up to the castle, mainly because Dean can't trust himself to say anything else now, fearing that he'll find a way to steer the conversation back to Blue-Eyes and yeah, he definitely needs to find out his name, because if he keeps calling him that, if they ever talk, he's not going to be able to stop himself from saying "Blue-Eyes" to his face. That would _not _be good.

They get to the Great Hall and Dean has fully recovered from his embarrassment enough to tell Jo and Ash that he'll be back in a minute before heading away. They probably think he's going to find Blue-Eyes, however, and it isn't until he's left them that he realises that. But he shakes it off; he's going to find Sammy and his brother will vouch for him.

'Oi, Sammy!' He calls, holding back a grin when he sees his brother roll his eyes and turn to his brother.

'What?'

'Just wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all.' Dean replies, not missing how snappy Sam's response was and tries not to let it bother him, because okay, maybe Dean is being a little paranoid and overprotective, but he can't really help it, and no, he's not going to let it bother him.

Sammy is a teenager full of angst and hormones and all that rubbish. That's all.

And it helps when Dean sees Sam's face soften; creases at his eyes from being narrowed soothing out, and his lips pull into a smile instead of the thin line that they were before.

'Yeah, Dean, I'm fine. Just starving,' they start to walk, heading to the Great Hall, and Dean is torn between feeling bad that he dragged Sam away from his friends, and a little happy that Sam left his friends for him. 'I hope Dumbledore's speech doesn't last too long. I'm not in the mood for that; I just want _food_.'

'Your stomach is a bottomless pit, y'know that?' Dean grins, it faltering for a second when they come to a stop because they're going to two different tables now. He's not sure how he ended up in Gryffindor and Sammy ended up in Ravenclaw - well, he know _why _Sammy ended up in Ravenclaw; the skinny pain is a genius - but normally families end up in the same House; like the Weasleys. Eight of them, and all of them were in Gryffindor. Even their mum and dad were in Gryffindor!

But the only time it annoys Dean is at moments like this; when they're walking and talking and then they have to part to sit at the different tables.

'Right, see you later, Sammy.' He ruffles Sam's brown hair that's longer than Dean would ever have, but his brother told him he wanted it long, so he lied to his dad when he said he had taken Sammy to get it cut. And their dad didn't see Sam before they came here, so he'll never know.

Sam bats his hand away after a moment and Dean chuckles before he heads to the Gryffindor table, spotting Jo and Ash before sitting down in the space they make for him.

He's about to scan the table when Dumbledore stands and walks to his podium, the owl in front of it spreading its wings out as soon as Dumbledore's hands graze the sides.

His speech isn't long, and mainly consists of him telling everyone that Voldemort is back, something that Dean had believed the second Harry Potter had said so. Many people didn't believe him, including Jo and Ash, and he's proven of this when their eyes roll and they send a disbelieving look to Harry, who's sitting in between his friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

But they turn back to the front when Dean gives them a soft kick each under the table. Dean sort of tunes out the speech, because it's nothing he either hasn't heard before_. _What gets his attention is when Dumbledore starts talking about their new Defence Against the Dark Art teacher, who goes by the name Dolores Umbridge.

Dean wants to be sick the second he sees her. The professors normally dress in dark robes; brown, black, emerald green if you're Professor McGonagall, but this woman - though, she _does _look like an ugly toad, which is saying something, because Dean thinks all toads are ugly anyway, but this woman is an ugly, ugly toad - is dressed in pink. From her head, which has a pale pink hat on top of her curly brown locks, to her toes, which are clad in a pair of baby pink court shoes.

'No freaking way.' Dean mutters under his breath, and he finds himself repeating it when she clears her throat - this high pitched, _giddy_ thing that once again, nearly has Dean puking - and stands from her seat at the table at the front of the Hall. She sits her bag, which, of course is pink, on the table and stands, her heels clicking against the stone floor as she moves over to stand beside Dumbledore.

She looks _tiny_ as she stands beside the Headmaster, and Dean reckons she can't be any taller than five foot.

She stares around the Hall for a moment, her eyes flickering over every table for a moment or two, but Dean's certain her gaze stays on the Gryffindor table - and Harry in particular - for longer than the rest, before she starts to speak.

Her voice is just dripping with fake-sweetness. It's a voice that he does not trust, because it's overly kind, overly sweet and he just knows this pink-clad toad is going to be neither kind nor sweet.

'Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome,' she starts and Dean can't help but roll his eyes, because all Dumbledore said was nothing more than "this is our new Defence teacher" before going on to say something that Filch had reminded him about. 'And how nice it is, to see all your smiling faces staring up at me.'

Dean has to look around himself at that, and almost laughs when he doesn't see one person smiling at her. Everyone wears frowns on their faces, some just have blank faces, but no-one, not one single person, wears a smile on their face.

Dean almost scoffs with laughter, but Umbridge starts talking again, and he genuinely wants to hear what else she's going to say.

'The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of a vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this... historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged.' Dean frowns at that, lines creasing on his forehead and between his eyebrows, and even at the corner of his eyes. 'Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be... prohibited!'

She stares the Great Hall down again, before she gives a stupid little giggle and then returns to her seat, after nodding her head to Dumbledore, who actually turns to the front and acts like the woman isn't batshit crazy and says, 'Thank you, Professor Umbridge. That was really most illuminating.'

'"Illuminating"? Has Dumbledore finally cracked it?' Dean hears Ash whisper, and Dean gives a chuckle which he covers up as a cough when Jo turns to give him a glare. Dumbledore finishes his speech, though no-one really listens to it, not after Umbridge's interruption, and then no-one really cares about either of them the second the food appears on the table.

It isn't until they've filled their plates with food that the pink toad gets brought up.

'She's crazy. Right? Everyone else got that impression?' Ash states and everyone only nods in reply, seeing as their mouths are stuffed with food.

Dean swallows his mouthful of delicious beef-burger, 'Batshit.'

'I'd be more worried about what it means than her sanity.' Hermione declares, sending both of them a disapproving glare, and then moving it onto Fred and George, who were laughing at Dean's comment.

'What?' Fred asks.

'Why?' George adds.

'_Because_,' she starts, her voice doing that thing that Dean's dubbed "classic-Hermione", where it sounds both informative but slightly judging because no-one else thought of it. 'It means the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts, and if the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts, it means they want to monitor us, and most probably, monitor Dumbledore; especially after last year.'

With the mention of last year, Jo and Ash give a scoff, and Harry's eyes shoot towards them, before he looks down at his lap and Dean sends a glare to Jo and Ash.

'Seriously, quit it you two.' He warns, his eyes flickering back over to Harry, who gives him a thankful look, and Dean only returns it before going back to his cheeseburger, because he's really not in the mood to argue with his friends; it's bad enough being caught between the two he's known since forever and the ones he's made when he came to Hogwarts.

And if Jo and Ash don't stop thinking Harry's lying, things are going to get worse, and with the revelation that Hogwarts is being watched, this year is going to be bad enough without that.

He just hopes they can see it that way too.

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><p><em><strong>Review? Please! I am desperate to hear what you think about the first chapter!<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	2. Chapter II: Screw the Ministry

_**Normally, I would wait until after I had updated Sweet Child O' Mine (my GN'R fic) before I update this one. But I've got the plan to just just write for SCO'M until it's finished, so that may take a while? So, yeah, instead of leaving you hanging, I'm updating this! **_

_**Hope you enjoy! :D**_

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><p><strong>Chapter II: Screw the Ministry.<strong>

Classes roll around the next day, and not one person is looking forward to it, mainly because they've got Defence Against the Dark Arts today; which means a class with that powder-pink toad that Dean can't stand looking at.

'I think I'm going to vomit in this class, seriously, this isn't gonna be good.' Dean declares as they trudge down to the dungeons. He had just gotten his schedule, and near enough called it quits when he saw he had Defence first thing in the morning followed by Transfiguration. Lucky for him though, after Transfiguration, that was him for the day.

"The blessing of NEWTs" he had said. He only gets two classes a day, and gets a Thursday off. He's a little bit in love with his Sixth Year already.

Except for today; Wednesdays will always be a pain if that's the two classes he has - personally, Mondays are his favourite with Muggle Studies and Herbology, the two easiest subjects for Dean, which he knows will make the first day of the week fly by and not be as painful as his Fifth Year, where he had Defence, Potions and Transfiguration all on the one day.

That was _not _fun.

'C'mon, Dean, it can't be _that _bad.'

'Yeah, she seems like the kind that'll wind up easy.'

Fred and George suddenly appear on either side of him with those comments, and whilst he's used to them just _appearing _out of the blue like that, it still doesn't stop him from having to close his eyes for a second until the shock wears off, then rolling them as soon as they're reopened.

'Chick works for the Ministry; you're saying she'll wind up easy?' Dean wonders, sending them a disbelieving glance because he knows how tough you need to be to work in the Ministry. After all, his mother worked there and well, she was a tough cookie.

Not tough enough apparently; not immortal like Dean thought she was when he was younger, but... nope. No, no, no and no.

_Bad place. Bad place. Get out!_

'Does anyone know what Department in the Ministry she works for?' Jo questions, almost as if she can sense Dean's sudden change in mood and wants to divert his thoughts for him; she's amazing at reading Dean - it's almost scary.

'She's the Senior Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic.' Ash explains, answering the question before Jo even gets it out of her mouth. Everyone turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. 'Common knowledge, mi amigos.'

'You're a freaking genius man, how you ended up in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw with Charlie I have no idea.' Dean states but no-one replies to him for they walk into the classroom and are greeted by Umbridge, who's standing in front of the classroom, behind the desk that has two large stacks of books on top of it.

'_Books_?' Dean whispers to Jo as they slide into the seats at the back of the class, waiting for the other pupils to come in. His eyes don't leave Umbridge, almost as if he doesn't trust her enough to take his eyes off her; like the suits of armour in the corridors at Hallowe'en.

He hears people come in and walk past him, but it isn't until one of them comes into sight from the corner of his eyes that his eyes leave Umbridge, because they're wearing yellow. Since when do they share this class with the Hufflepuffs? Isn't it normally the Slytherins that they share Defence with?

He voices this thought to Jo and Ash, who merely scan around the room and shrug at him, because they have no idea either.

However, Dean doesn't really care about that as another thought comes into his head; Blue-Eyes is a Hufflepuff - Blue-Eyes is the Hufflepuff _Prefect_, chances are he's going to be in this class. No freaking way. He thought this class was going to be weird enough having Umbridge as a teacher, but this idiot with the blue eyes is going to be in it and yeah, Dean just knows he's going to fail his NEWT in Defence; Sammy will be disappointed in him, that's for sure.

Dean sees Blue-Eyes walks in and immediately rolls his eyes when he sees him go straight for the front table. Jesus Christ, what a kiss-ass.

'Good morning, class,' Umbridge starts as soon as everyone is inside and settled in a seat, and Dean rolls his eyes again because Goddammit, that voice is going to annoy him so bloody much. No-one sounds like that; that voice is definitely a fake voice and Dean doesn't trust people with fake voices; doesn't trust anyone who does fake anything. 'As you know, this year you are sitting your NEWT examinations.'

She picks up her wand and Dean frowns at it because of how short of it is; he's never seen a wand _that _short before, and if she were a dude he'd be making a joke about how it must reflect on him and yeah, he may or may not give a small snort at that pathetic joke.

The toad does nothing, however, and just waves her wand at the chalkboard standing to the left of the desk clad with textbooks.

The chalk flies up in the air and starts writing and Dean tilts his head so he can actually see what it has been enchanted to write: _Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test._

Who didn't know what the letters stood for? Dean wonders but shakes his head because Umbridge starts talking again as she moves to stand in front of the desk now, her hands clasped together and her wand still in her hand, and Dean rolls his eyes, because of course, _of course_, her wand would be **pink_. _**

He didn't even know they _made _pink wands!

'Most people who find the Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations hard, usually fail their Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, or as they're more commonly known as, NEWTs.' She waves her wand once more, towards each stack of books that are still on the desk. They come floating off the desk and start trailing down the corridors that the student's desks make, and as they do, a book is deposited on each of the student's desk. 'These books give you all the information needed to pass your NEWT in Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

As soon as one lands on Dean's desk, he picks it up with distaste written on his face because textbooks aren't his favourite things in the world; he's much more interested in the practical side of things, but as he flicks through the book, he realises something: 'Where are the spells?'

Umbridge's eyes land on him, and he notices that everyone turned their head the second he spoke up to stare at him, before they turn back to their books, almost to see if they could find the spells or that they thought Dean was lying, but after a moment, it becomes apparent he wasn't, because no-one can find _any _mention of spells or anything practical.

'They are there, Mr. Winchester.'

'Yeah, a brief explanation on them and what they do; no mention on using them, though.' He realises as soon as the words leave his mouth that this is a record for him; in the first ten minutes of the first class of the first day of school, he's managed to cause an argument with his teacher; an argument that he has no doubt that will end in detention. Most of them do.

But this one will be worth it, because he's not going through a year - his second lastyear - and not doing any spells in his favourite class!

'Why on _earth _would you want to know how to use defensive spells, my dear?'

And yeah, Dean's tempted to hex the old hag right now for calling him "my dear". No-one calls him stupid names like that. No-one should call anyone "my dear"!

'I dunno, maybe because there's a lot of crazy shit going on out there, in the Big-Bad-World; y'know, the one we're gonna be a part of in two years time?'

She seems to ignore his swearing and focuses on the more important thing in his sentence. Dean give Umbridge her first - and probably last - good point for that.

'Nothing bad is happening in the "Big-Bad-World", as you put it, Mr. Winchester.' She turns her eyes away from Dean and addresses the full class. 'I do not know what you have heard, but nothing is happening. All these… _horrible_ rumours of a certain Dark Wizard being back are a _lies_!' She hisses the last word, as if it's dirt in her mouth and Dean seriously didn't think she could get any crazier, but apparently he was wrong.

'Told you.' Jo whispers and Dean gives her a glare.

'The Ministry doesn't exactly have the best reputation for telling the truth, though, do they, Professor?' Dean snaps because no, they do not. He's not buying any of this crazy story that they're trying to spin, because they did the exact same thing with his mother, and look where that got her; got his family.

Umbridge's eyes narrow at him, and it's almost as if she knows what he's thinking; can see his thought process and chances are she can. She works for the Ministry, Dean realises just a second too late that it means he'll know about his mother; knows he's going to be a pain in her side just because she's a Ministry Official.

Yep, this isn't going to bode well for him if the look in her eyes is anything to go by.

'Detention during lunch, Mr. Winchester; my office.' She declares, her voice going even faker and sweeter, which Dean didn't think was possible, but there you go.

She then turns her attention back to teaching the class, telling them to open the book at a certain page and to read and not interrupt her again unless it's to ask a question regarding the book, and to _raise their hand_ if they're going to do so.

And it takes all of Dean's strength not to rise from his seat, tell her to go fuck herself and storm out of the classroom and back to the Common Room. Instead, he just bites the inside of his mouth, and opens the book, before looking up because he can feel someone's eyes on him, and if it's that _bitch _again, he's going to lose his self-control.

But Umbridge isn't staring at him, she's examining her nails, and Dean frowns before he starts scanning the room, because he can still feel someone's eyes on him, and then he finds the bright blue eyes of Hufflepuff's Prefect and it occurs to him that he _still _doesn't know the guy's name!

However, he turns away as soon as Dean's eyes land on him, almost as if he didn't want to be caught staring and Dean's torn between smirking and frowning, and his face contorts into something in between them and it causes Jo to poke a finger to his ribs.

'You constipated or something?' She whispers and Dean just gives her a glare, which she chuckles at before they both turn their attention back to their books as soon as Umbridge looks up from her nails.

Though before Dean starts to read the words printed on the paper, his green eyes flicker up to Blue-Eyes once more, but he's got his head down as he reads and Dean rolls his eyes at himself, and he rests his head in his hand, and wonders how much more trouble he would get into if he had to fall asleep.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'I hate her.' Dean declares the second he's in the Common Room. He dumps his bag onto the floor, the contents clattering and clanking together, and he wants to hiss at it to shut up, but instead he just collapses onto the burgundy suede couch, his head lolling back until it's resting against the back of the love seat.

'I'm guessing detention was no fun?' Ash questions.

'Detention is never fun, but this bitch is a million times worse.'

They don't even ask him what she made him do for his detention, which he's thankful for, because that would mean talking about it and dammit, that's just not something he's willing to do. All they need to know is that Professor Dolores Umbridge is a bitch of the highest degree.

'Doesn't sound good.'

Dean lifts his head from its place on the back of the couch and fixes his eyes on Ash.

'Yeah, and whatever you do, don't go to her office. She's redecorated; everything is pink now. With kittens everywhere. Her freaking _sugar _is pink! I mean, c'mon! The woman is obsessed.'

'What did she make you do?' Jo grins at him. 'Sit there and get brushed up against by one of the kittens? Does she enjoy seeing people runny nosed, red eyes and covered in blotches?'

'No-one is _that _cruel.' Ash reasons but Dean just scoffs.

'I don't know, this cow might be.'

Almost sensing that Dean's heading in a downward spiral, Jo changes the subject. Talking isn't something Dean does, and she knows he's not going to tell them what he had to do for his detention, but she _does _know that he needs to be pulled away from all thoughts of it, and she knows just the subject that will put a smile on his face.

'I was talking to Charlie at lunch, and she's dying to see you, because there's apparently something really big she wants to tell you.'

And just like Jo predicted, a smile pulls at Dean's lips at the mention of Charlie, and then it grows when she tells him that Charlie is looking to tell him something, and it must be big because Charlie normally waits until she sees Dean before telling him anything; the big important stuff gets a mention to a million other people, telling them to tell Dean she's got something to say to him.

It works in distracting him, even though he knows that's what Jo's plan was all along. He's not as smart as Sammy, but he's not exactly an idiot. It leaves him feeling impatient, however, this is something big and he wants to know _now _and he's kind of wishing Jo had kept her mouth shut, or at least picked a different subject to talk about.

'Did she give any hint on what she's going to tell me?'

'Nope.' Jo answers straight away and Dean rolls his eyes, chances are even if she _did _know something that would give him a hint at what Charlie was going to tell him, she wouldn't say a bloody word. Jo can be twisted like that.

Dean sighs and his head falls back to its previous position on the headrest of the couch.

'How long is it to dinner?'

Jo and Ash just roll their eyes and laugh, going back to what they were doing before Dean came in, and Dean just closes his eyes and lets the silence around him quiet the buzz in his mind.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean laughs. It's loud and unashamed and it ends up gathering the attention of half the Great Hall, but he doesn't stop or quieten down.

'Dean!' Charlie hisses, playfully slapping his arm as her face turns red, almost matching the hair on her hair, that's been tightly pulled back into a ponytail. 'You're not supposed to laugh!'

Dean tries to stop, but finds that he can't. He does quieten down though, and after a moment, his laughter dies into sparse chuckles, before he manages to get a word out.

'I'm sorry, it's just _you_ got detention? _You_, Charlie Bradbury, got detention for sneaking out of your Common Room, to go to Hufflepuff's Common Room so you could snog your girlfriend!' He bursts into laughter again, but Charlie's glare is enough to have it simmering back to chuckles once more. 'I'm sorry, it's just, that's the shit _I_ do, not the genius Ravenclaw Charlie Bradbury!'

It's been three weeks since he came back to Hogwarts, and two weeks since he discovered Charlie actually had a girlfriend as well. The supper after his detention with that toad Umbridge - who he's had plenty more detentions with in those three weeks - was when he found out about her. Her name was Gilda and Dean laughed when Charlie told him about her.

Not because it was funny that Charlie had a girlfriend, because he's actually quite happy with that, his friend was happy, but it was just the _way_ she talked about her. Her silky brown hair; those sparkling brown eyes; mocha coloured skin. Everything was over described and sickly sweet and it was so out of place coming from Charlie, who's normally so cool and flippant, that he just _had _to laugh.

Though, he did end up with a dirty big bruise on his arm for his troubles, but he still maintains it was worth it.

And he's probably going to end up with another one now, for laughing again, but he can't help it because Charlie is normally so afraid of breaking rules that Dean's had to walk her through some things; like how to flirt her way out of a detention with the male Prefect for Ravenclaw. And he's surprised she's forgotten everything he taught her.

'What about my techniques, Charlie? Couldn't flirt your way out of this one?'

'It was the male Hufflepuff Perfect, Castiel, I think his name is, and I dunno, I panicked!'

'Castiel?' Dean questions because okay, he's not been thinking about the Prefect as much as he thought he would; distractions keep coming up and if he's honest, he's kind of forgot about his determination to find out the guy's name, but now he has it and he wasn't even looking for it. It's always the same.

Charlie frowns at him. 'Really? Out of all of that, you just got the guy's name?'

Dean just shrugs as he reaches across and gets another slice of toast before he has to head for Potions. Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies and Herbology are the only classes he knows what he's doing and is positive he'll get the NEWT for. Defence still isn't any better. They're still just reading from that stupid book all day long and Dean knows that if they keep that up, he's never going to pass.

He needs to add practical with technical otherwise he's got no chance of remembering things. Reading isn't Dean's strongest learning technique; though, despite what other people say, and what Sam seems to believe, he _does _enjoy reading. Most of the time it's the Muggle books that his father owns, on rare occasions he reads books by Wizard authors, but the reading/studying combination isn't his best way to learn something. It normally goes in one ear and out the other.

He needs both. He needs the practical side so he _knows _and understands what the book is saying, and needs to the technical side so he knows what the spell is supposed to do and look like.

This whole just reading malarky is getting him nowhere. And he needs a NEWT is Defence if he wants to follow through with his dream of being an Auror.

He wasn't the one that brought up the idea, it was actually McGonagall in his career advice meeting in Fifth Year. She said it would suit him; saving people, hunting bad guys. It was something he was just _made _to do, and it would almost be the family business, seeing as his mother was one.

As soon as his mother was brought up, he said no, because he knows what happened to his mum, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided he wanted to do her proud; wanted to follow in her footsteps and maybe put a stop to the thing that took her away from him and his family. He went back to McGonagall then and asked her for information, which she gladly gave.

But now, it looks like he won't even be able to do that, because of that stupid, pink-clad, stuck-up bitch that he hates!

'Earth to Dean! Earth to Dean!' He comes back to his senses with Charlie waving a hand in front of his face, a grin on her lips and she's probably misread everything wrong because he went off in a dream after they talked about Castiel, and nope, this is not good. Not good at all.

'C'mon before we're late.' He declares, taking the first and last bite from his new slice of toast, before throwing it back down onto his empty plate. Those thoughts totally ruined his appetite and he shouldn't think of shit like that before 12pm, it's just shouldn't be done. Truthfully, he shouldn't be allowed to think shit like that period.

He stands and hooks his bag over his shoulder, looking down at Charlie with a raised eyebrow. She says nothing as she stands as well, following his example of shouldering her bag and they leave the Great Hall and head for their Potions class.

As soon as they're away from the Gryffindor table where they were sitting, Dean questions, 'So, I take it now you've got Gilda, you've stopped crushing on Hermione?'

She swots his arm again, her face reddening and she wants to hit him even harder now; she had just gotten rid of her first blush.

'I never fancied Hermione.'

Dean throws his head back and laughs, 'Liar! You were obsessed with her; always asking me what was up with her, and let's face it, every time you sat at our table and she talked to you, your eyes glazed over and you turned into a nervous eleven-year-old again.'

Charlie just rolls her eyes and walks into the Potions classroom, no longer in the mood to protest his statement. Anyway, if she kept arguing with him, it would eventually lead to her having to admit that _yes_, she did have a small - or rather a humongous - crush on Hermione Granger, even now when she was going out with Gilda, and she wasn't really willing to do that.

Dean chuckles before he takes his seat next to her and decides not to make a comment because Snape walks in the room, and the last thing he wants is to piss off that greasy git.

He's had enough detentions from the toad, he doesn't want any from the snake.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Nearly two months have passed since they first came back to Hogwarts and things are _definitely _not going as well as they had hoped for. Dean wanted a smooth Sixth Year; something to remember and this one he's definitely going to remember, but for all the wrong reasons.

Umbridge continues to make Defence Against the Dark Arts a living hell for every single student of the Hogwarts population, and they can do nothing about it. She works for the Ministry, and she's definitely there for the purpose of watching the school; that much becomes clear the second she is appointed Hogwarts "High Inquisitor".

Dean and the others could no longer deny Hermione's suspicion that the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had put Umbridge into Hogwarts to watch the students and teachers alike. Dean normally looks forward to his other classes, because it meant getting away from her and actually doing magic, but now that she was the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, she had the ability to sit in on other classes and the teachers couldn't protest.

And Dean was definitely finding it hard to learn about how to brew the complicated Draught of Living Death without her stupid pink heels clanking against the stone floor of the Potions classroom.

'She better hope I never manage to brew this,' Dean whispers under his breath to Charlie, as he stirs the potion inside his cauldron. 'I'll slip a vial into her stupid tea as she adds her stupid pink sugar.'

Umbridge walks back to the front of the classroom, and that's the only reason Dean feels safe enough to whisper to Charlie. If he's honest, he's getting tired of all the detentions and what she makes him do is finally getting to him, something that she looks happier and happier about, the cheeky cow.

'Something needs to be done, right? Something _needs _to be done about her? We're not learning; how are we supposed to pass NEWTs if she's the one calling the shots?' Charlie enquires, her voice a whisper as well because she's also had enough with detentions; all of them for sneaking out to see Gilda. It's actually becoming a regular occurrence, and the Hufflepuff prefect, Castiel, has given up trying to get her to stop and just lets her and Gilda be, knowing they're not doing anything bad.

Charlie nearly kissed him when he explained this to her, when she called him out on it when he just walked past them one night, when they were sitting in Hufflepuff's Common Room.

They frown when a _psst _comes from behind them, and after checking to make sure Umbridge isn't watching, which she isn't as she's talking to Snape instead, they both turn to find Fred and George staring at them, leaning on the table beside their cauldron and completely ignoring it, even as the steam turns green, which it definitely _should not _be doing.

'What?' Charlie and Dean ask in unison.

'Something needs to be done?'

'Well, something is being done.'

'Ron's told us that him, Harry and Hermione are getting together on the next trip to Hogsmeade -'

'- Next week -'

'- To do something about it. We don't know what, but Hermione's determined to make it happen -'

'- And you know how Hermione gets when she's determined to make something happen.'

Sometimes it gets confusing with their constant switching on who's doing the talking, but after six years, both Dean and Charlie are used to it.

Dean smirks and turns to Charlie, who's wearing a frown on her face, because this is sounding like something that's very Gryffindor-y and not at all Ravenclaw-y.

But she's willing to do anything if it means passing her NEWT, and hey, this may be just what she needs.

So, with this in mind, she turns back to Fred and George with a small smirk growing on her lips, one that's matching Dean's and asks, 'Where about's this meeting in Hogsmeade?'

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please review and let me know what you think! ;D<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	3. Chapter III: Dumbledore's Army

**_Here's Chapter 3! Hope you enjoy! ;D_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter III: Dumbledore's Army.<strong>

Dean and Charlie find themselves in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade for the meeting that Harry, Ron and Hermione have arranged. They manage to drag Jo and Ash along, even though they both think it's stupid and pointless because what can that trio do? But Dean and Charlie want them to go, so that's how they find themselves sitting beside them, looking at the trio with sceptical gazes on their faces.

Dean says nothing about the looks on their faces, and allows them to sulk where they sit, because after all, if they don't want to pass their Defence NEWT, that's up to them. He does; Charlie does and probably the other twenty people in the tavern want to pass their exams as well. Or more importantly, learn how to defend themselves.

He looks around the room, his green eyes scanning to see what familiar faces he can find; Fred and George are there, with Lee Jordan. Ginny Weasley is there as well, Fred, George and Ron's younger sister, as is Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom. It's then he realises that the majority of the people are Gryffindors.

There are other people there as well, some he doesn't know, like the girl with blonde, almost silver hair that reaches her waist, but when he sees her blue badge with the Ravenclaw raven, he nudges Charlie's side with his elbow and nods over to her, 'Who's that?'

'Luna Lovegood. I like her; she's a little crazy but who doesn't love a little bit of craziness?' She smiles as the girl, Luna, feels their eyes onto them and then waves her hand at them. 'And she's got this awesome thing, where she doesn't give a _damn_ what anyone thinks of her. She's awesome.'

Dean gives her a smile as she rants on about the girl, and when Charlie notices, she flushes a deep pink.

Dean chuckles but says nothing else as he continues to scan the room for more familiar faces when his eyes meet a pair of bright blue eyes and he does a double-take the second his eyes go to pass over them.

His eyes widen as he finally realises that he's staring at Blue-Eyes - no, wait, Castiel. He knows his name now. Though, if he's perfectly honest, he does find himself referring to him as Blue-Eyes still; it seems more accurate and just a better name than Castiel. But that could just be because he's yet to talk to him - and who knows, that may change if he ever got up the courage to talk to him.

Nearly two months and he's yet to talk to him.

It occurs to him a moment later that Castiel is in fact staring at him as well, and Dean's eyes widen just a little bit further when Castiel raises his eyebrow at Dean. He turns away from him as soon as Castiel does this, clearing his throat as he turns his attention back to Charlie and tries not to think of the heat that's growing on his cheeks.

'What happened to you?' Charlie questions but he just shakes his head, and then nods to the front when Hermione stands in front of the crowd, clearing her throat and wringing her hands together nervously. She glances back to Ron and Harry, who are still sitting on the desk.

'Right,' she starts and the room falls silent, and Dean finally feels the weight of Castiel's gaze leave the side of his face. 'I think you all know why we're here. We need a teacher.' She states this before she sighs, and looks briefly back to her friends. She turns to the front again. 'A _proper _teacher. One who's had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts.'

'Why?' Someone questions from the back and Dean is torn between rolling his eyes and turning to glare at the idiot, instead he does neither, keeping his eyes on the front because _yes_, this is definitely what he wants; what he's been praying for and he's finally getting it!

'_Why_?' Ron asks mockingly. 'Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot!'

Dean snickers.

'So _he_ says,' the voice questions again and Dean turns, looking to find Zacharias Smith, sitting beside Ginny with a sneer on his face.

He frowns at the younger student, before turning back to Hermione as she speaks, 'So Dumbledore says.'

'So Dumbledore says because he says,' Zacharias counters once more and Dean turns to him again.

'Seriously mate, shut up.'

'Why? The point is there's no proof he's back!' He turns his gaze away from Dean and back to Harry. 'Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed.'

Dean feels the atmosphere change in the room completely at the mention of Cedric's death. The truth is, no-one is over it. Dean hardly knew him, talked to him once or twice, teased him about how Harry was going to win and he remembers how Cedric teased back.

But there were people in this room who knew him better than that; Cho went out with him last year, probably _loved _him seeing as they went out for ages, right up until his death. And there were other Hufflepuffs here as well, and you don't go through years of Hogwarts without knowing _everyone _in your House. Dean knows the new First Years already; by name, personality and jokes with them constantly, teaches them constantly because Toad-Face isn't doing a damn thing; isn't doing her _job_.

And with the mention of his death; the first loss that Hogwarts has suffered in the time they've been there, it's enough to chill the room. For everyone to fall silent, their eyes falling to the ground and wondering whether or not it's a good to be here today.

Dean entwines his fingers together, playing with them in order to keep his mind from the sight of seeing Harry draped over Cedric's body as he cried about how Voldemort was back and how Cedric was dead; how everyone started crying once they realised what had happened; how Cedric's father ran from the crowd, previously with a smile as he thought his son had won the Triwizard Tournament, only to dissolve into tears when he realised that wasn't the case.

Dean sighs and minutely shakes his head. He turns to the side just a little and notices Castiel standing with his head bowed; his eyes closed and Dean frowns. Castiel must've know him - Castiel took over from him as Prefect for crying out loud! Dean's sorely tempted to get up and comfort him, but how do you comfort someone you've never talked to?

Dean turns back to the front as he notices Harry stand.

'I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here, you might as well clear out now.' He turns to Hermione. 'Hermione, let's go, they're just here 'cause they think I'm some kind of freak.'

Hermione grabs ahold of his arm, and by the look on her face, she's got a whole argument prepared for why he should stay, but she doesn't even get to use it, because someone calls out with another question.

'Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?'

Dean raises his eyebrow at the airy voice and turns to see Luna Lovegood looking at him expectantly. He then turns back to Harry with the same raised eyebrow because he wants to know if that's true. Sure, he talks to Harry and they're friendly, but he's got Hermione and Ron to share his secrets with and Dean's got Jo, Ash and Charlie, so it's hardly like they know _everything _about each other.

But seriously? A Patronus charm? Dean's found even more respect for the younger boy if this is true.

Harry says nothing and just stares at Luna for a second, and Dean can see him wracking his brains on what to say or why she's asking that, and he's so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn't answer straight away.

So, Hermione does it for him.

'Yes! I've seen it.'

'Blimey Harry! I didn't know you could do that!' Dean Thomas jumps in, echoing Dean's thoughts and he relaxes a little when he realises he's not the only one that didn't know this bit of information.

'And… and he killed a Basilisk!' Neville speaks up. 'With the sword in Dumbledore's office!'

'It's true!' Ginny agrees, and Dean remembers that of course she'd know that, because she was taken to the Chamber of Secrets in her first year, and Dean forgot about that! How Harry saved her from certain death. How can people doubt his skills and knowledge?

'In Third Year he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once!' Ron declares, adding to the list of Harry's triumphs.

Hermione wears a proud smile on her face as she turns back to the crowd, but before he speaks, Dean notices the way Harry is looking, as if he doesn't understand why everyone is making a big deal about this. As if no-one understands it; as if it's all _lies. _

And Dean knows it's not. Some he remembers hearing about; some are new, but he knows what Harry Potter is capable of, and he knows they wouldn't lie about stuff like this.

'And last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh.' Hermione states, but Harry turns to her and stops her from saying anymore with an agitated "all right!".

'Look… it all sounds… _great _when you say it like that, but… the truth is, most of that was just _luck_! I didn't know what I was doing half the time; I nearly always had help.'

'He's just being modest.' Hermione states but Harry shakes his head and retorts, 'No, Hermione, I'm not!'

Before he continues, Dean is tempted to tell him that it's okay he had help! That there's nothing wrong with needing to get told what to do from someone else, and if anything, it makes him more human. More like them; it makes the goals seem not that impossible! And if he had help, why can't he help them learn these spells?

But before Dean can say any of this, Harry is talking again, 'Facing this stuff, in real life is not like school… in school, if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow, but out there… when you're a second away from being murdered, or watching a friend _die_ right before your eyes… you don't know what that's like.'

The atmosphere loses the spark it had gained when listing all of Harry's triumphs, and goes back to how it was when Cedric was mentioned, because, in a way, he was mentioned again. Everyone sits around and stares at the ground as Harry slowly sits back down into his seat. He traces the patterns of the wooden floor, but then he feels Hermione's sit down next to him and looks up.

'You're right, Harry, we don't. That's why we need your help.'

Dean smirks because she's gotten that thought as well; realised that if Harry needed help, they need it too, and they _definitely _do need it if they're supposed to survive this.

'Because if we're going to have any chance of beating… Voldemort,' Hermione finally says his name after a second or two of deliberation, and Dean's head shoots up, because he knows how afraid she was of saying the word; saying his name. And that's when he was supposedly gone. Now, he's back and she's saying it, and if that doesn't show how much Hermione wants this, Dean doesn't think anything else will.

'He's really back?' Colin Creevy question and Harry says nothing, but only nods his head slowly, almost as if he's too raw to actually say another word.

And Dean can't blame him. A room full of people who want to learn from him? Dean would be freaking out as well!

The room falls silent once more, and everyone looks around trying to decide whether or not they're going to do this, but Dean's already made his mind up. And apparently Neville has as well, for he stands just as Dean is about to, and Dean stands the second Neville takes a step towards the table, flitting in behind him and he looks over his shoulder, noticing how Charlie stands behind him but Jo and Ash are still sitting on their seats, looking at him with wide eyes and Ash has his mouth open. He just sends them a grin and the moves forward as Neville moves out of the way and goes to talk to Hermione.

He picks up the quill and signs _Dean Winchester _under Neville's name, happy that he's finally doing this; that something is finally happening.

Another thought occurs to him, however, and he walks over where Harry and Ron are standing, looking at the long line that's formed. Harry wears a humble look on his face and Ron is making no attempts to hold back his wide smirk.

'Is there an age limit to this, Harry?'

Harry raises his head and his green eyes clash with Dean's own before he shrugs.

'I'd rather not have to teach First Years or that, to be honest, but if you're asking for your brother, I think I would let him come. He's smart, determined, and something tells me if a fight broke out, he wouldn't leave, so the more he knows, the better.'

Dean nods his head, the smile he wore at having _finally _done something about Umbridge and his NEWTs, falls off his face when he realises just what Harry said; what he means.

'So, you think there's going to be a fight? Or a war?'

'I don't want there to be, but Voldemort's back and I know people who says it feels like it did the first time around.'

Dean nods once before he shakes his head, 'Right, this has turned too depressing for my liking. See you around, Harry.'

He claps Harry on the shoulder and turns, noticing Charlie, Jo and Ash standing just off the side of the desk, and Dean walks over to them. He looks over George's shoulder, who's in the process of signing his name and sees _Jo Harvelle _and _Ash Miles. _Dean turns to them with a smirk on his lips.

'Shut up and don't say anything.' Jo warns, shoving his shoulder as he walks over to them and he does nothing but chuckle as they leave the Hog's Head, stumbling out onto the cold, snow-covered ground of Hogsmeade.

Dean wraps his arms around his chest, but a moment later has to wrap one around Charlie's shoulder who burrows herself into his side.

'Back to the castle, My Queen?' Dean smirks down after saying goodbye to Ash and Jo who say they're going to spend more time looking around Hogsmeade, but will see them in the Great Hall for dinner.

Charlie looks up at him, a wide smile on her face that shows all her teeth, 'Why, yes, Handmaiden.'

And Dean does nothing but laugh as he steers them towards the castle.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

They haven't found anywhere to hold their little Defence class, nor have they settled on a name, and Harry's definitely not starting until they have room they can really practice in, but nonetheless, Dean is still excited that he's got something to look forward to.

He mentioned the little club to Sam, who was all too happy with the idea. Dean made sure to tell him that he's not to go blabbing about it to anyone else, and then found himself grinning like an idiot when Sam asked if he could tell Jessica and bring her along.

Dean just shrugged and told Sam what Harry told him, that he doesn't want a lot of the younger students there, but he has no doubt that Harry would be willing to make an exception for Jess as well, who was determined to join the second Sam shouted her over and informed her about it.

However, Dean's even more determined to get this thing rolling when he heads to the Great Hall, and sees Filch up on the ladders, adding another _Educational Decree _to the other twenty million that adorns the wall outside the Great Hall.

'What's this one?' He questions Jo as soon as he stops beside her. She looks up at him, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear before she shrugs.

'Haven't seen it yet.'

They wait until Filch comes back down from the ladders and they can finally read what it says.

_Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four: All Student Organisations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

Dean scoffs before he shakes his head and walks into the Great Hall, hearing Jo follow behind him.

'So, she's expelling people now, just for getting together? As if the whole, "not being able to stand within two inches of each other" garbage was bad enough. Who the hell does this bitch think she is?'

'I don't know, but Dean?' Jo calls and Dean stops in his journey to the Gryffindor table, turning to look at her with a raised eyebrow. 'I'm convinced now. I'm convinced that He's back and the Ministry is trying to squash Harry and Dumbledore for speaking against them; all of these _Educational Decrees_ are too suspicious and coincidental for my taste, and I just wanted you to know that. To know I'm joining this because I believe, not because you wanted me to.'

Dean says nothing but just grins at her, because he knows that Jo is like him in a sense. The whole, "talking about feelings" malarky is more trouble that it's worth, and he's more than willing to just take everything she said and smile about it instead of telling her that he's happy she's finally come around; that's she believing and willing to fight with him.

He can say that with a smile and a small punch to the shoulder, which is exactly what he does.

'So, given anymore thought of the start date, Harry? After "Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, I'm even more determined to show this bitch what Hogwart's is about.'

He gets a disapproving look from Hermione for his words, but a chuckle from Harry and Ron, and that's what he focuses on instead.

Harry opens his mouth, but immediately shuts it and before Dean can question him about it, he hears Umbridge's shoes clicking against the stone floor directly behind him, and knows what that means. The toad is walking up the aisle behind him.

He doesn't turn to stare at her, but he is tempted to, just to make sure she isn't listening in, but he guesses he's not when Harry leans slightly across the table and declares, 'I'll tell you later in the Common Room, and you can pass it on to the people you know; like your brother and Charlie.'

Dean nods his head, sending one more smirk to Harry before he turns, giving into his need to look at the toad to make sure she's not closer than she should be or is listening in. He doesn't like turning his back on her, he's discovered; not even for a second. It makes him feel unsafe, and if there's one thing that Dean Winchester can't stand, it is feeling unsafe.

He spots her up at the table at the front of the Great Hall and he can feel himself relaxing, because right now, she isn't a threat, and he can concentrate on his breakfast without worrying that he's going to turn and find her standing behind him.

He's looking forward to starting this now, not because it'll go against one of Umbridge's little laws that she's created, but because it means he's doing something; something big and bad is coming, he's thought it for a while now and Harry's pretty much confirmed it for him.

He wants to fight, he wants to be able to stand and protect his friends and family, and right now, he's not going to be able to do that. He knows Harry and he knows what he's been through, and he knows, that if anyone can teach them how to protect themselves, even if it's just long enough for the "real" help to get there - the "real" help that Dean wants to be someday - or just to get away and hide, it's going to be Harry Potter, because he's been there and done it, just as he said.

And whilst Dean can't imagine what it's been like for him, he can relate to him and he knows that Harry is just like him.

He just wants certain things to be over.

And surely this is one way to put an end to his feelings; by fighting the bad in the world, but doing good, by _finally _making the people in his life proud of him.

That'll put an end to his feelings, right?

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please review! It'll make my day! ;D<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	4. Chapter IV: Christmas in a Motel

_**Hello! I've got another chapter for you all! Hope you enjoy it! We get a little (and by little, I actually mean teeny-tiny) bit of DeanCas interaction! ;D**_

_**Enjoy! **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter IV: Christmas in a Motel.<strong>

Dean feels the coin burn in his hand. Finally. He's been holding it for the past ten minutes, staring at it intently, and he was starting to worry that Hermione had given him a dud one, but no, it's working perfectly fine, thank goodness.

He turns the coin over and sees the writing on the supposed Galleon change, and he feels a smile pull on his lips when he sees the date for the first meeting of the new Defence lessons, which they had dubbed Dumbledore's Army.

Dean's still impressed at Ginny for coming up with that name, and especially her reasoning behind it. Dumbledore being the only thing the Ministry, and Voldemort for that matter, are afraid of. And they were going to wear that name proudly; Dumbledore's Army - proud to be fighting in the old wizard's name.

But who wouldn't feel honoured fighting for the greatest wizard of the time?

He pockets the Galleon and goes back to reading up on the information he needs to write his essay for Potions, a smile permanently on his face and not even the boring task of writing an essay can wipe it off.

It isn't long before he's making his way down the corridor, his mind focused entirely on Dumbledore's Army and nothing else, otherwise he's never going to get into the room; he's still astonished that this amazing room exists. Seven years at school and he has yet to realise that a room that changes to fit whatever your need is exists. He could've used that many times.

However, his worries over the room not showing for him are proved foolish; by the time he reaches the end of the corridor, a door that isn't normally there appears, and after looking left, right and behind him to make sure no-one has followed him, he opens the door and slips in.

'Dean!' He hears a voice shout the second he's shut the door behind him, and he grins as he watches his brother shoot up from his seat and run over to stand in front of him. 'I thought you hadn't got a note about this; you're near enough late!'

Dean rolls his eyes as he ruffles Sam's hair with his hand, 'Remember I'm supposed to be the over-bearing, over-protective brother, not you.'

He wraps his arm around Sam's shoulder despite his brother's half-assed protest and steers him back over to the place he was previously sitting, and it's then Dean realises he was sitting with Jessica, Charlie, Jo and Ash.

Huh. Maybe he was a little bit late.

'Are you ever on time, Winchester?' Charlie questions and Dean knows straight away she's teasing, because after all, that's the only time she calls him "Winchester" instead of "Dean" or "Handmaiden". The latter he's still a little embarrassed about, but it's between them and their own little joke. And after all, he calls her "My Queen", so that evens things out a little.

'Well, I'm never early if that's what you mean,' he retorts, sending a wink to Charlie before sitting down next to her with a chuckle as her face begins to heat up. He looks around the room and notices that near enough everyone from the signup meeting is there, including Castiel… not that Dean cares that much. But he does notice that Castiel stands beside another Hufflepuff; he has blond hair that sticks up every-which-way, and has his arms crossed over his slim chest and Dean's curious because he says something to Castiel, and Castiel gives a deep chuckle.

And nope, Dean doesn't care at all.

He decides to stop watching Castiel and the mysterious Hufflepuff and looks around the room once again, and realises something that he _can _in fact talk about.

'You didn't tell Gilda about this?' He questions, turning to Charlie who bites her lip.

'I did, but she didn't like the idea of fighting. She's very docile and would rather find other ways to help stop You-Know-Who, so, she's not coming along to these meetings, and she actually tried to talk me out of it, but I just explained that whilst she wasn't a fighter, I was. After all, you can't be a queen if you don't lead your soldiers into battle, isn't that right, Handmaiden?'

'Definitely, My Queen.' Dean grins at her and before anyone can make a comment about their little joking - which they enjoy doing immensely - Harry stands up in front of the room and clears his throat, gaining everyone's attention.

'Uh, hi,' he starts, holding his wand in both hands, his left hand clenching and unclenching around the tip of it and yep, the boy is nervous. Not that Dean could blame him. 'I was thinking that, for your first class, we'll, uh, practise that Disarming Spell.'

'The Disarming Spell? Is that it? That's a bit _simple_.' Zacharias scoffs and Dean's head whips around to glare at him. If the stupid git doesn't watch his mouth and attitude, his nose was going to get seriously acquainted with Dean's fist. After all, if he doesn't want to be here, why is he here?

Then he remembers that he's dating Ginny and that's probably the only reason he's here. To be with his girlfriend. But with that comment, Dean is sorely tempted to take Ginny aside and tell her she can do ten million times better than an arrogant toerag like him, then he realises that this is Ginny Weasley he's thinking about; the girl has probably realised this already and is just planning out the breakup as he thinks.

Harry's attitude towards the idea of teaching Dumbledore's Army seems to have improved, however, especially with dealing comments like this, for he just fixes his gaze onto Zacharias and retorts, 'Simple, maybe, but this _simple_ spell is the one that saved me from Voldemort last year, so yeah, I recommend most people learning it.'

Dean gives a chuckle, that he quickly tries to cover up with a cough because let's face it, the last thing that's needed is animosity in such a secret and forbidden club like this one.

So, to try and save himself, he nods his head, turns his gaze back to Harry and with a smirk on his lips, declares, 'I think it's an awesome plan.'

The Disarming Spell is easy and simple, just like Zacharias said, but not in the way he meant it, and Dean stands firmly by the fact that it's a useful spell to know. After all, if you do it quick enough, your opponent is wandless and can't attack, and what's so bad about that? And when Dean hears Zacharias complain again as everyone is practising the spell, he needs to turn and tell him that; all the patience and desire to keep the peace in this organisation quickly evaporates, and he puts him in his place.

_Yeah, it's a simple spell, but it's an _**_effective _**_spell, and that's what's important. So shut up and let people concentrate, before I find a simple but effective way to permanently shut you up, like, I dunno, ripping your tongue out! _He remembers snapping at him, and okay, maybe it was a little harsh, and a little extreme, but he said what he needed to say, got all that anger out of him and got his desired response, seeing as he didn't hear another peep from Zacharias for the rest of the lesson.

After Dean's outburst, they return to practising the spell, even though the majority of the students manage and can do the spell, there are still one or two that can't, and Harry doesn't want to move on until everyone can do it.

However, when he stops the class and says that's them finished for the day, he does explain that he'll be moving on to the Reductor Curse next time, and that the week after that, they'll do the Stunning Spell, before taking another few weeks to perfect them, before moving on to harder spells and hexes.

Dean also noticed, after giving Zacharias what he deserved, that Castiel was excelling in the class. Every time he manages the spell and okay, it's not exactly the hardest spell to do, but there was once or twice he couldn't do it when he wasn't concentrating, but Castiel? Castiel managed it every single time, and Dean felt the desire to say something to him, but then the dishevelled looking blond that he was talking to earlier would beat him to it, and Dean decided there was no point in him doing it; especially when he hadn't talked to him,

After all, he knows that a compliment tends to sound less creepy coming from someone you know, rather than a total stranger.

So, maybe that's why he finds it a little weird and a little disarming, when he finds himself alone with Castiel in the Room of Requirements after their fifth meeting with Dumbledore's Army.

He bites his bottom lip as he packs his bag and notices Castiel a few feet away from him doing the same, and the silence is deafening. Something Dean never likes. There are times silence is an all right thing; tolerable, but this isn't one of them, because this is an awkward silence, with him being stuck in an empty room with the person he's been dying to talk to all year and still can't find the right words to say to him.

He clears his throat, and he's not sure why he did it, because Castiel raises his head and quirks an eyebrow at him, looking at him expectantly.

Dean realises that if he's going to finally say something to him, this is the perfect opportunity, but instead of saying anything, he just stares at Castiel for a little bit longer until Castiel frowns deeply at him and turns away, turning his attention back to packing his books into his bag.

The group had realised they wouldn't get another meeting until next week, so they pushed two together today, but had a break in between and it was so long that Dean got bored and decided to do his homework; he had an essay due in Transfiguration tomorrow, and with the extra meeting, it was the only time he was going to get it done.

It made him look like a nerd, but he didn't care. Not that he needed to worry about people thinking he was a nerd, though, because the second people saw what he was doing, they started copying him; digging out the homework they had to do and doing it until the next meeting was due to start.

The difference was the those students put their stuff back into their bags just after Harry called the meeting to order again. Dean had just kicked his stuff away and that's how he's ended up alone in the room with Castiel, packing his bag.

And once again, he's reminded by how loud the silence is and how much he can't stand it.

So, he takes a deep breath and decides to go for a safe question, 'How're you finding the meetings so far?'

Castiel raises his head and looks back at Dean, his frown still in place because Dean's finally decided to talk, but Dean notices that it's not as deep as it was before, and that seems to soothe him a little.

Castiel shrugs, 'Not too bad. Easier than I presumed.'

Dean gives a chuckle, 'I thought that, you've been nailing every spell Harry's thrown at us!'

Castiel turns and fixes his gaze back onto Dean once more, and Dean's green eyes meet Castiel's blue ones, and he's suddenly caught by the urge to start calling him "Blue-Eyes" again, instead of "Castiel".

'So have you.' Castiel retorts, and he says the three words in such a way that he almost sounds _confused. _But why on earth would he be confused?

Dean tries to think about that, but then decides that it's too late and he's too tired for that amount of thinking, so just settles on saying, 'Yeah. Most of the time I can do them, but once or twice I've had to take a breath, settle my thoughts and go again.'

'I think you're underestimating yourself,' Castiel states before he shoulders his bag and with only a small, 'I'll see you at the next meeting,' he turns and walks over to the door, leaving Dean alone in the room with a frown on his face at his words.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Christmas Holidays roll around sooner than Dean thought they would; even though they land at the same time every year, he just didn't think that much time had passed. So, when Harry stops the meeting early to declare that's them until after the Christmas Holidays, the reality comes hurtling back to him and he feels as if his breath has been knocked out of his lungs.

They're still mastering the basic three charms, but Harry promised that after Christmas, they'll be moving on to harder ones, and he's even going to teach them the Patronus Charm, something Dean's looking forward to.

What he's not really looking forward to is going home.

But he needs to go home; his dad would never forgive him if he decided to spend the Holidays at Hogwarts, even though the Holidays at home were going to be a million times worse.

And so, maybe that's why he's a little hesitant when he's walking beside Sammy as they leave the Hogwarts Express, his hands clenched tightly around both his and Sammy's bag. Sam had protested the second Dean had lifted it up, but after seeing the look on Dean's face, said nothing else and let it drop.

He notices Castiel and the guy he's always around nowadays, who Dean's learnt is called Balthazar, and his grasp on the bags tighten slightly. Despite the fact they had talked after that meeting, they actually haven't said another word since then and Dean's starting to feel pissed off, because it shouldn't be _that _hard to talk to someone.

But then he always feels annoyed because he shouldn't be that determined to talk to someone he doesn't know; it's weird his sudden fascination with the Hufflepuff, but Dean just has a feeling about him and well, that's all that matters.

Sam runs through the wall whilst he's busy staring at Castiel, who feels someone's eyes on him and turns to gaze a Dean. Instead of turning away and pretending he was doing nothing, he raises his hand and gives a wave - well, as much as a wave as it can be when he's holding Sam's bag in his hand.

Much to his surprise, Castiel stops talking to his friend in order to wave back at Dean, before Balthazar regains his attention by placing an hand on Castiel's arm and Dean just rolls his eyes, before he follows Sammy though the wall and almost bumps into someone as he does so.

'Sorry.' He mutters as he stops and looks around the train station, trying to find his brother and his father, and then he spots them, only a few feet away from them.

With a deep breath in through his nose, he plasters a small smile on his face and makes his way over to them.

'How's the year been so far?' His father questions as soon as he's close enough, and Dean swallows before answering.

'Good, sir.'

John studies his son for a moment before he nods his head and then turns on his heel, walking out of the train station and with a shaky exhale, Sam and Dean follow him.

'Are you going to tell him?' Sam questions, his voice barely a whisper as they follow in step behind their father. Dean turns to look at Sam, a look of disbelief on his face and he shakes his head.

''Course not.'

Sam looks a little disappointed that he's not going to be able to talk about Dumbledore's Army, but Dean just can't bring himself to tell his father anything about how bad things are getting in the Wizarding World again. It's not that he wants to keep his father in the dark, he just knows that how determined he'll get to try and help, and Dean knows he can't.

This is things that he can't fight; he doesn't have the ability; doesn't have the _magic _that Sam and Dean have; the magic they got from their mother.

It was always a little weird for Dean growing up, realising that his mother had magic but his father didn't. It was even weirder when Dean realised that he, himself, had magic, as did his younger brother, but still his father didn't.

But now, sixteen years later, he's finally gotten used to it.

His thoughts are saved from going to a darker place when he sees his father's car and he grins. He gives Sam back his bag in order to trail a hand over her shiny black body, and Dean's grin widens.

'Aw, Baby, I've missed you.'

John chuckles as his son trails her hand over the boot, up the sides before stroking along to roof as he makes his way to the passenger seat.

But before Dean can pull the passenger door open, John throws the keys at his son.

'Where do you think you're going?'

'What?' Dean questions as he frowns, his gaze shifting between the keys still in his hands and his father, and on one occasion they land on his brother, who just shrugs his shoulders, opening the boot and throwing his bag into it.

'It's yours.' John declares, moving over to the passenger door, putting his hand briefly on Sam's shoulder as he does, and Sam frowns at him for a second before sliding into the backseats, deciding not to say anything. 'Or, at least, it will be when you pass your test.'

He pushes Dean aside in order to get into the passenger seat, leaving Dean standing out in the cold wind for a moment. He stares at the black, '67 Chevy Impala with wonder and just a hint of suspicion. This has been Dad's car for _years_. He had it before Dean was even _born _and here he was, just giving it away?

And yeah, he was giving it away to Dean, and not some stranger, but he was giving it away nonetheless and his dad just didn't do things like that.

He's about to open the door and demand to know what his dad's angle is when his father chaps the window from the inside and barks, 'Get in, boy!'

Dean's back straightens ramrod straight, before he clears his throat and walks around to the driver's side. He slides into the seat and puts the key in the ignition, and even though he wears a smile on his lips as the engine of his baby purrs into life, he can't shake the nagging feeling of _wrong_.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean's used to sleeping in sleazy motels; he's used to spending birthdays, Christmases and all other anniversary in motels with questionable stains on every surface. Ever since his mum died, his father couldn't stay in one place. Not even when it became apparent that his sons were magic and would have to attend Hogwarts when they turned eleven.

They always moved about; slept in hotels for a few days before hitting the road. Dean's actually surprised the millage in the Impala hasn't reset itself back to zero with the amount of miles it has seen.

Even now, his father still travels about when Dean and Sam are at Hogwarts, and when they do go home for Summer, they spend most of their time at their Uncle Bobby's, who isn't really their uncle, but he's been more of a constant in their life than their own father has, so he deserves the title in Dean's eyes, and he knows Bobby wears it proudly.

Dean doesn't even mind spending all his Summer holidays with Bobby, because he gets to see Jo and Ash then, as well as Ellen. Bobby isn't Jo's dad, but he's married to Ellen and just like with Sam and Dean, he's proud to be there for Jo.

So, yes, Dean's used to the disgusting motels meant for nothing more than whores and sleazy gits, but this is different. He definitely knows that now; knows something is up with his father when they pull up at a motel, that whilst still sleazy, isn't what they're used to at this time, because it's actually _decorated _for Christmas.

Dean frowns at the building but shuts the engine off and gets out the car when his father does. He waits by the car with under his dad's instructions, as he's going to get the rooms, and all the feelings of wrong and weird that he buried during the drive comes creeping back up until he's having trouble breathing right.

'Dean? Are you okay?'

'Isn't this off to you?'

Sam nods his head, 'He's hiding something; thought that the minute he said he was giving you the Impala.'

Dean sighs in relief, because if Sam's noticed that, it means he's not going crazy.

'Are you going to say something about_ this_?'

With Sam's question, his thoughts about his father quickly leave his mind because of the tone of his brother's voice.

'You're still pissed that I'm not telling him about Dumbledore's Army, aren't you?' He questions, not even bothering to sugarcoat it this time.

He turns his gaze onto Sam and tries to see if he's even thinking about denying it, but his brother turns his brown eyes onto him, his gaze hard and retorts.

'Yeah, I am.' Dean just frowns, so Sam continues. 'You always tiptoe around him, Dean! Trying to be this "perfect" son, and you're never going to do it! He's got a standard of you that you're _never _going to reach! I just want you to stop being the person he wants you to be, and start being the person you actually are.'

'And what person am I actually?'

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother, his gaze flickering over to the reception to see if he can find any sign of his father returning, and when he can't, he turns back to Dean and replies, 'You're the big brother! You care about anyone and everyone, but because of that dick, the only person you can't see the good in is yourself!'

Dean scoffs, digging his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and rolls his eyes, 'That's really nice, Sammy. Do you want me to go and get ice cream and we can eat it whilst braiding each other's hair as we talk more about our feelings?'

Sam grinds his teeth together, 'You're such a child, Dean! But do you ever notice that you _never _make those kind of comments when you're at Hogwarts? Away from him?'

He waits a beat but when it becomes apparent to him that Dean knows _exactly _what he's talking about, and knows the truth behind his words, he shakes his head, 'Yeah, I thought so.'

Thankfully, Dean is saved from any response when they see their father walking back towards them with a grin on his face.

'Got the rooms; let's go boys! Got to get it ready for Christmas!'

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Surprisingly for the Winchester family, Christmas passes without any arguments and Dean starts to think that he was just over-exaggerating when he thought there was something wrong wit his dad; that he was hiding something.

He thinks that maybe his father had some sort of epiphany whilst they were away at Hogwarts, and this is the "new" him.

But, of course, things could never be that easy or good for him. As he finds out when he wakes up on Boxing Day. His head thumps a little, and he doesn't know if it's because of the food he consumed yesterday, or the drink that his dad let him have. But it's not sore enough that it's going to dampen his mood, and after a tiny groan the second he wakes up, he decides that's all the complaining his sore head is going to get.

Especially when something is nagging at the back of his mind; that feeling of _wrong _is back again.

He looks around the room and spots Sam still snoozing in his bed, but notices his father's bed is empty, and that's definitely not like his father to be up and out first. He's normally the last to wake.

With a frown, he throws the covers away from his person and slides out of bed, moving over the window in the dingy motel room and pulls back the curtains. He blinks when the sun shoots straight into his eyes, but after he manages to adjust his sight, he looks out to the parking-lot and realises that the Impala is still there.

His frown deepens, because that's _definitely _not like his dad to leave and not take the Impala, and Dean seems to momentarily forget that this Impala is _his _now, not his dad's.

'Dean?' Sam's sleep-filled voice fills the silence in the room, and Dean drops the curtain and turns back to him, realising a moment too late that the sun would've seeped into his brother's eyes as well.

'Sorry.' He mutters as he looks around the room, trying to find any remnants of his dad, but there's _nothing_ there that would show that his father even slept in the room; no excess clothing, a jacket, his watch, nothing.

'Where's Dad?'

Dean turns his confused gaze back onto his brother and mutters, 'I honestly have no idea.'

'What do you mean you have no idea?' Sam questions, sitting up in his bed and rubbing his eyes, but Dean doesn't miss how the sleepiness is slightly replaced with panic.

'It means I have _no fucking idea_ where Dad is!'

His eyes scan the room once more, looking for something, but then he notices a piece of paper under the keys to the Impala, and Dean knows that wasn't there before, because he placed the keys there. It was plain wood when he sat them down; he remembers the clinking sound it made when he sat them down.

He walks over and slides the piece of paper out from under the keys, wincing at the rattling noise they make when they clatter back onto the wood once again.

His name is written in his dad's script on the front and his worry deepens, clawing at him from the inside and dying to burst out. A note is never a good sign; what did his father have to say that couldn't be said to his face?

Dean unfolds the paper and his eyes flit over the writing, the sense of worry slowly being replaced with anger with every word until his hands are shaking and holding the paper so tightly it starts to rip.

It's saved from its fate of being shredded into pieces when Sam unfurls Dean's hands from it and takes it off of him, skimming over the words whilst his brother stands in the same place, trying to decide whether he wants to tear the room apart or throw up.

'He's got another _kid_?' Sam asks incredulously and Dean just fixes his eyes on him before he shakes his head and storms out of the room, leaving Sam alone with his only comfort being that Dean didn't take the car keys.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean comes back and after much pleading, he and Sam pile into the car and he drives them to Bobby's. He's at the door when they park and get out of the car, and Dean leaves his bag in the boot as he storms up to Bobby.

'Did you know?'

Bobby nods his head, 'He told me about a month ago, 'cause he told me he was going to be moving in with her and the kid.'

Dean gives a scoff of laughter, shaking his head as his hand clenches into a fist, and he storms inside the house that's been as much of a home as the Impala has been.

'He didn't say where he was going in the letter, do you know?'

'Yeah.'

'Where?'

'I'm not telling you, boy.' Bobby retorts and when Dean turns to stare at him in disbelief, he expands, 'I know you, Dean, you'll go and drive there. You'll not go back to Hogwarts until you've hunt him down and told him what you think; that's if you make it that far without crashing the car 'cause you're not concentrating.'

Dean scoffs and goes to turn away, but Bobby puts his hand on his shoulder and he stops short.

'Son, he's not worth it.'

And with those words, all of his anger evaporates from his body as his shoulder hunch in on themselves, because all he can think of now is why wasn't he enough?

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><p><em><strong>I know John leaving seems a bit random, but I needed it to happen for the story. Not to mention, I kinda hate John Winchester... so the sooner I could get him out of the story, the better!<strong>_

_**Reply to Guest Review: **Thanks for the review! As for Cas taking Cedric's place as prefect when he died, I just thought that Cas was their second option after Cedric, so instead of going to the 5th Years, they would make Cas the house prefect instead. I know they probably wouldn't have, but shh, we'll just believe they did! And as for the NEWTs, they start studying them in 6th Year, as proven by HBP, and I've just decided to make them like the rest of Scotland. We have highers and advanced highers, which you can take in your 5th/6th year (we don't have a 7th) and if there's a 6th year that's studying the same thing at the same level, they'll be put in with the 5th years. So yeah, I just decided to go with how the rest of Scotland do it, and have NEWT classes consist of both 6th and 7th years, even though it doesn't happen in the books. I just think it makes more sense and cuts back unnecessary classes, y'know? Just me taking some liberty with the HP 'verse as a fellow Scot, 'tis all. ;D_

_**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review (reviews make me update faster!) and I'll see you all next time! ;D**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	5. Chapter V: The Happiest Memory I Have?

_**I'm back with another chapter! Hope you enjoy! ;D**_

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><p><strong>Chapter V: The Happiest Memory I Have?<strong>

To say that Dean's over his dad's sudden disappearance or abandonment, depending on who's talking about it, by the time he returns to Hogwarts would be unrealistic. To say that he's stopped cursing his name every five minutes would be high hopes. However, to say that he's realised it's happened and he's not coming back and he's just going to have to deal with that… well, it's as close as anyone's going to get to the truth of his feelings.

Thankfully, what has passed is his sense of unworthiness. After going to his own room that he had at Bobby's, and feeling a tear fall down his cheek, he made his way out to the Impala, ready to fix a few things that was wrong with her, and because it was his car now, he wanted her to be perfect.

What he didn't expect was him to take a crowbar and bash it against her hood until a dent - or crater, according to Sammy - appeared, and he only dropped it once he had broke her front window as well.

After that, his attitude quickly changed into one of "fuck him", because Sam and Dean were better than what he deserved anyway. He could go and play happy family with his new kid, but Dean knew it wasn't the circumstances that led to him leaving Sam and Dean, it was just the person John Winchester was, and he knew, sooner or later, he was going to fuck that poor kid up too.

But that wasn't on Dean's head. The only person he had to look after now was Sammy. And himself, even though that thought hadn't crossed his mind until he was ranting to Bobby and told him that he only had to look out for Sammy, and Bobby added that he had to take care of himself as well.

Looking after himself; putting himself first is something Dean can't do, but he wasn't about to let Bobby in on that. He didn't need another father figure thinking he was failure.

Okay, so maybe the feelings of unworthiness weren't _completely _away, but they were in terms of his father, which was something!

But he's definitely not in any happy place, so when the next meeting of Dumbledore's Army rolls around, and Harry declares they're going to be doing Patronuses, Dean's ready to throw his hands up in the air and call it quits.

Harry demonstrates; waves his wand, mutters the incantation and before their eyes, a silver, wispy stag appears before their eyes. He walks them through the movement and how powerful the memory needs to be, and when he says the words "the happiest, most powerful memory you can think of", Dean rolls his eyes and walks over to side on the sidelines as everyone spreads out to try their hand at it.

He suspects Charlie, Sam or even Jo to come over and ask him what's wrong, but none of them do. The last person he expects to come sit beside him is Castiel, which is maybe why he stares at him like he has four heads when he does.

'This is the spell everyone has been looking forward to, and the second we start to learn it, you sit to the side?'

Dean doesn't know if it's a statement or a question, but it does sound more like a question and okay, this dude is a total stranger in his books, but his _family_ hasn't turned and asked him what's wrong, so what the hell, right?

'Just not feeling happy-go-lucky. I'd try and produce a Patronus and end up creating a Dementor or something.' He tries to smile but it fails miserably and he just twirls his wand around in his hand instead.

He looks back up and watches the room for a moment, noticing how not one person has managed to create a Patronus yet, and he hardly thinks anyone will in this lesson; honestly thinks no-one will be able to produce one, period.

Dean turns back to Castiel, 'Anyway, as you said, everyone's been looking forward to doing this, go and try it instead of talking to me. I'll drain all the happiness from you.'

'I honestly doubt that.' Castiel mutters under his breath, but Dean catches it anyway and frowns at him. 'I'm not going to leave you to sit and sulk alone.'

Something flutters within Dean, but he ignores it; ignores how that's the first time he's heard someone say something like that; say that they're not going to leave Dean, even though it's only for a small period of time, and everyone leaves eventually, Dean knows that, but still… at the moment and how he's feeling, it's what Dean needs.

'Tell you what, you manage to produce a Patronus, and I'll stop sulking and come and try it… after bowing down to you of course. Sometimes I think you should be teaching the bloody class with how good you are.'

Castiel says nothing, hardly moves a muscle despite the compliment Dean just paid him, but something shifts within his eyes, and even though his lips are still only pulled into a small smile, it looks a mile long with the look in his eyes.

Not that Dean notices, for he turns his head has been permanently facing the front ever since the kind words left his mouth.

'You've got a deal, Winchester.'

Dean smirks and turns to watch Castiel stand from his place beside him and walk to a space in the middle of the room. He stands with his wand in his hand for a few moments and does nothing, and Dean seriously thinks that the boy is broken, but after a moment, he flourishes his wand and mutters the incantation, "_Expecto Patronum!" _and what Dean doesn't expect is for silver wisps to shot from his wand, and for a bird to soar into the sky.

Dean's eyes widen as the whole room falls silent, turning to watch the silver bird, which Dean realises a moment later is a peacock, soar about the room, before it settles in front of Dean, an expectant look on its face.

Dean lifts his head to find Castiel wearing the same look and he knows exactly what he's waiting for; with a foolish grin on his lips, Dean stands from his sulking spot and after making sure he's locked eyes with Castiel's bright blue ones, he falls into a bow, arms extended on either side of him and his back flat as he bows down.

He straightens when he hears Castiel's chuckle and he can't help but join in along with it. The distraction is enough to disturb Castiel's concentration and his peacock Patronus disappears, evaporating like smoke.

As soon as it disappears, everyone seems to break out of their trance and rush over to Castiel, crowding around him and breaking his contact from Dean, who's still wearing a wide smile on his lips.

'Well done, Castiel!' Harry exclaims over the chatter - "what did you think of?", "that was incredible!", "you're amazing!" - and walks over to pat Castiel's shoulder.

Dean doesn't miss how Castiel deflects every single time someone asks him what he thought of, but pays no heed, for Harry manages to get the crowd to stop gathering around Castiel and to focus more on doing it themselves.

'He can do it! You can too if you practice!'

He makes his way over to Castiel, who grins at him, showing all his teeth and Dean rolls his eyes and mutters, 'Don't get a big head,' before standing beside him and trying his hand at the spell.

And even though he doesn't manage it by the time the meeting is over, it doesn't matter, for Castiel still has that wide smirk on his face, as Dean wraps his arm around his shoulder and directs them both to the Great Hall for food. And he doesn't even notice that he steers them both to the Hufflepuff table and eats his dinner there, beside Castiel.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

It isn't until a week or so later that, when Ash corners him in the Common Room, Dean realises just how much time he's been spending with Castiel.

Ash plops himself down on the seat next to Dean, narrowly missing the book on Transfiguration that Dean has open to help him with his essay, but he picks it up anyway and shuts it, causing Dean to finally give him his entire attention.

'Ash, I like you, but I will kick your ass.' Dean declares as he tries to get his book back but Ash just holds it out of his way and gives him a grin. 'Seriously, Dr. Badass, do you have a death wish?'

'What's up with you and Novak?'

With the question, Dean forgets about trying to get his book back and turns a questioning gaze onto Ash.

'What d'you mean?'

It's a simple question and most people would take it as deflecting the question, but Ash knows Dean and after studying him for a moment, he looks genuinely confused, so Ash just sighs and hands Dean his book back.

'With how much time you're spending with him. You've eaten at the Hufflepuff table a good amount of times, and him at the Gryffindor. After that whole thing with the Patronus, you've been inseparable.' Ash explains and Dean's confused look turns into a frown before it eventually settles on a look of recognition.

It's weird. Not because he _is _spending time with Castiel, or Cas as he's started calling him. That was weird as well, how he was just talking to him and it naturally slipped out, as if he'd been calling him that for years, and Cas, after a brief look of surprise and wonder, said nothing and just _accepted _it without a second thought.

The truth is, he can't really answer Ash's question, because he doesn't know what the hell has happened! Cas has just found a way into his life and it's almost like he's always been there. The way Dean jokes around with him, and vice versa… it _is _like they've known each other since First Year, instead of it just being a week ago since they started hanging out.

And normally, that would freak Dean out; the way he's suddenly comfortable around someone he doesn't really know, but surprisingly it's not. And it's the most relaxed Dean's been around anyone in a long time, so, he's not exactly going to turn away just because of that.

Instead, he turns to Ash again and shrugs, flicking his way through the book once again as he tries to find his previous page and says, 'I dunno, man, honestly. But he's awesome.'

And with that said, he goes back to writing Transfiguration essay, finding some sort of solace in the fact he's willing to defend Cas and his friendship with the Hufflepuff, even with his friends.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'So, is there a meaning behind your name?' Dean questions one day, as they're lying in the Room of Requirements, both of them on their stomachs with their Defence Against the Dark Arts book open in front of them. That was the only downside to Dumbledore's Army, they had discovered. Umbridge still expects essays and homework from them, and none of it is about the practical side of things; it's all supposed to come from the book, and since neither of them had even _read _it, they decided working together would be the best bet.

And seeing as they can't go to each other's Common Room without getting distracted by the other people in it, and it's still too cold to go outside, and they had a feeling that Umbridge would split them up if she ever caught them helping each other if they went to the Great Hall, they found themselves in the Room of Requirements.

Thankfully, the didn't have a DA meeting, so they wouldn't be hogging it from the other students.

'What?' Cas questions, looking up from his piece of parchment with a confused look on his face, and Dean honestly can't tell if it's because of the difficulty of the essay or because of Dean's question… he just settles on the decision that it's a combination of both.

'I mean, I know wizards sometimes come up with some crazy names, but your name doesn't sound like the wizarding kind of crazy… it… well… it sounds almost _biblical_.' Dean admits, honestly feeling a little embarrassed as he's actually admitting to spending time thinking about Cas' name.

He just hopes Cas doesn't think about that and just answers his question.

And almost as if he just read his mind, that's what Cas does.

'It is.' Cas answers. 'It's the name of an angel. Though, it was supposed to be "Cassiel" but for some reason they decided to go for "Castiel" instead. But yes, it's from the Bible; the Angel of Thursday, apparently.'

'I didn't know wizards read the Bible.' Dean muses with a small smile on his face, that is quickly wiped from his face with Cas' next words.

'I'm Muggle-born.'

He doesn't say it as if he's judging Dean for not knowing; he just says it like he's stating the obvious; telling Dean what he had for breakfast or something, but that's not the way Dean hears it. Dean hears it as a shout; as if he's shouting at Dean for not knowing a single thing about him and it's then it hits Dean that he honestly doesn't.

He knows the basics; like, very basics. His last name; his birthday; where he was born, but this… he doesn't know about his parents; doesn't know if he has brothers or sisters. And it's not like it's something that comes up, but they've been talking for a two months now, and Dean's constantly calling him his friend and he doesn't know a damn thing.

And then, he realises that he's not talked about his life to Cas either. Cas only knows about Sam because Sam's a member of the DA as well. But he hasn't explained how Charlie, Jo and Ash come into his life; about his father or mother or Bobby or anything.

He's been calling Castiel his best friend for a month now, and honestly knows fuck all about him.

Dean clears his throat, momentarily speechless by his sudden revelation, but he decides that there's obviously a reason Cas hasn't said anything about his family. Hell, he knows the that he's still hurt by his father walking out on him, and he still can't talk about it, or even think about it, otherwise he gets the urge to punch a hole in the wall; gets the need to hurt and be hurt, which is never a good thing.

He clears his throat again, and nods his head, 'I didn't know that.'

Cas just shrugs, 'I'm not my blood; I don't feel it is necessary information to share.'

And that seems to cause all of Dean's thoughts and worries to evaporate, because this is true. What does it matter what blood Cas had? He was still his best friend, and even though they hadn't opened up yet, he knew they would at some point, because that's what friends do.

So, instead, he puts a grin on his lips, nods his head and declares that, 'Truer words have never been spoken.'

He then goes back to his essay, pointing out a sentence in the book that they can definitely use and puts all thoughts to the back of his mind, hoping not to think on them again.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Things are going great with Dumbledore's Army; Dean still hasn't managed to produce a Patronus but that doesn't bother him. He knows that his thoughts aren't necessary "happy" ones; knows the amount of shit he's been through and knows that there's always a darker part to even a sort-of happy memory.

Like, any time he thinks of his mum - and the majority of his happy memories are those of his mother - he always ends up thinking about how she's dead and it kills any buzz he ever had. Then his father… well, he has no happy memories with his father.

There was that one time last year that Sammy and him bought a shitload of fireworks and headed out to a clearing near the forest at Bobby's, and yeah, that's a happy memory because Sam was feeling down that Dad wasn't going to take them to the fireworks that was happening for Christmas near Bobby's and Dean took it upon himself to cheer him up, like he always does.

So, he bought some fireworks and managed to keep it from Sam until they were in the clearing and the box was sitting there and he was able to see Sam's face just _light _up. And yeah, he felt proud and happy and comfortable then, but when he thinks on that memory for too long, he remembers what followed, and then it's another happy memory wasted.

So, he knows he's not able to come up with a happy enough memory for a Patronus, so, it doesn't bum him out because it's not his abilities… it's just his fucked up mind.

But every other spell is going brilliantly, both for him and Cas, so yes, it's safe to say that things are going great with Dumbledore's Army… that is, until they start to go wrong.

It's a week before the Easter holidays, and Dean's looking forward to it, because it's a break from lessons but it's such a small break that he doesn't need to go home for; doesn't need to be faced with the reminder that he wasn't good enough for his own father to stick around for; at least for another few months that is.

They're all practising the the spells they have the most trouble with, and under Cas' persuasion, Dean is trying his hand at producing a Patronus. He manages a non-corporeal one, only because the memory lasts long enough for some unshaped silver wisps to shoot out of the tip of his wand, but they soon disappear when the darker thoughts come in.

He's just managed it for the third time when a shout of "Harry!" sounds in the room.

Everyone turns to find a small elf standing by the door, his large eyes searching frantically around the room and they don't stop until Harry rushes forward and asks, 'Dobby?'

'The evil woman! The one always dressed in pink! She knows about the meetings, Harry Potter, sir, she knows about the room! She's coming!'

There's a beat of silence as Dobby's words sink in, and then Harry seems to snap out of his senses and turns to the room.

'Run! Go!' He shouts and no-one needs to be told twice. Dean turns to Cas and they both have an understanding between them as a moment later the break into a run towards the door. Everyone doesn't rush through it at once, and Dean's silently blesses the common sense of the people in the room.

And as soon as he's through the door, he turns and even as people rush past him, he doesn't move until he sees Castiel running towards him and they both sprint down the corridors, hoping and praying they don't run into Umbridge, and they don't stop until they're standing in the courtyard of Hogwarts, panting heavily as they double over, hands on their knees as they try and settle their breathing once more.

When it slowly returns to normal, after what may well have been five minutes or five hours, they turn to each other, Cas' blue eyes clashing with Dean's green eyes and they both know that their previous sense of haven and belonging has suddenly been shattered before their eyes, and they both have no idea what's going to happen now.

Dumbledore's Army was the only constant; their only silver lining really, and now that was gone.

What the hell were they supposed to do now?

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean and Cas decide to stay out in the courtyard for most of the night; the meetings for Dumbledore's Army have to take place after all lessons were finished, and it wasn't until five in the afternoon that Dobby came to tell them Umbridge knew all about them.

They know they could probably go back to their Common Room, but even though they never said anything, there was an unspoken decision that they needed to stay together for a little while longer.

They don't talk. Not even to fill the silence or talk about what it all means; they just sit side by side, knees touching and Dean is resting his back against the stone cold wall of Hogwarts, whilst Cas has his elbows on his knees, his hands in prayer formation and pressed against his lips.

They know what it means; Dumbledore's Army is no more. They weren't caught, so Umbridge can't exactly give them detention or anything. But who grassed them in? The Room of Requirements was supposed to be secret; especially when it comes to the DA meetings, because it would only reveal itself to those who were looking for it.

The sky has changed from its previous colour of orange to a dark midnight blue by the time Dean speaks again.

'Who d'you reckon it was?'

Cas finally straightens and Dean winces at the sound his back makes as it cracks; surprisingly, he's the only one that does. Cas just gives an exhale.

'I don't know. Someone that didn't want to be there?' Cas offers. 'Someone who doesn't believe Harry?'

'But who would join if they didn't? Even Ash and Jo came around in the end! I just don't see how you can spend about six months in a secret organisation and find a way to betray it!'

Castiel doesn't reply to that, instead he leans back until his head is resting against the wall of the castle as well, only an inch or two from Dean's, and he casts his eyes upwards, taking in the dark sky that holds a million stars, shining down on them and if he's honest, their sparsity sort of reminds him of the freckles on Dean's face.

'We should probably head back to our Common Rooms.' He mutters after a while, not sure how long they were sitting in silence again.

Dean doesn't want to say that he doesn't want to leave yet; feels comfortable and relaxed here and it's just so _quiet _and peaceful that he can almost forget… well, everything.

Dumbledore's Army has broken up; that last ray of hope he had is gone. His father didn't stick around to even see him graduate from Hogwarts. His mother didn't even see him turn from toddler to boy to teenager to the young man he was now; will never see him turn into a man, with maybe a family of his own.

But when he's here, and there's just him and Cas and silence, it's almost as if he can forget all about that. None of it matters. Dumbledore's Army was always a risky thing, sooner or later it was going to end, they were deluding themselves if they thought they were going to get away with it forever. And he couldn't help or save his mother; can't go back in time and change that, and he knows it's made him and Sammy the people they are today.

And as for his dad, he can't see that. He can't see the amazing people his sons turned into; he can only see their failures and if he would rather be a part of _Adam's_ life, then fuck him. Dean didn't need him, and Sam didn't need him.

So, maybe that's half the reason he doesn't want to move, because he knows this peace and quiet won't last forever, especially after everything that happened today, and he doesn't want to lose it.

And despite his words, Cas also makes no move to go to his Common Room, and Dean wonders if he's the same; if he has demons that are only silenced in his presence.

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><p><em><strong>Please review!<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	6. Chapter VI: For the Sins Which Are Yours

_**Here's another chapter! Enjoy!**_

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><p><strong>Chapter VI: For the Sins Which Are Yours.<strong>

They do leave the courtyard eventually, not because they want to, but because of a few other reasons that they have no control over; like how it's late and Cas is a Prefect so can't be caught outside this late, or how Dean is a little tired, despite his protests that he's just _resting_ his eyes. Not to mention that it's _freezing_cold. So much so, they went from having only their knees touching to being pressed together from shoulder to foot, arms crossed over their chests and teeth chattering. But the final strawwas when it started raining and they had no shelter.

That's when they decide to leave the courtyard.

'Fucking Scottish weather, man.' Dean hisses as he stands from his place, though his movements are a little stilted from his coldness and having been sitting in the same position for a good amount of hours now. Not that he'll complain about being pressed up against Cas.

Cas just rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of Dean's arm to tug him back into the castle, but only because of how long he was taking to move.

'For someone protesting about getting wet, you spent a hell of a time standing in the rain.' Cas declares as he lets go of his arm, finally back in the castle again, and whilst not equipped with central heating, and therefore not as warm as a house would be - or the Common Room would be for that matter, with its lovely roaring fire - it's definitely warmer than outside.

Dean stares at him for a moment, running a hand through his wet hair as they trudge their way through the castle, Cas' wand tip illuminating the way, before he eventually decides to tell Cas, 'Shut up!'

Cas chuckles, but it shortly dies on his lips when they come to the junction where they need to part. Dean needs to go left to get to Gryffindor Tower; Cas needs to go straight on to get to Hufflepuff's Basement.

'Why weren't you a Hufflepuff?' Castiel questions as he gazes down the corridor with a look of distaste on his face.

'Dunno, the Hat thought 'bout putting me there. It was his first option, actually, then he changed his mind when he saw…' Dean trails off and Cas just tilts his head, and Dean finds himself grinning despite the memory, because only Castiel can manage a look that offers him the chance to continue but says that he doesn't need to.

And a part of him wants to explain things; wants to talk about his family but there's too much and he's wet and cold and tired, and this probably isn't the best time to suddenly bombard Cas with all his problems. And who knows, he may hear them and decide Dean's too fucked up to be friends with; will see the amount of shit Dean's been through and decide that he'll inevitably go through more and he's just not worth the fight.

Instead, Dean digs into his pocket and pulls out his wand, mutters '_Lumos,_' so that the tip of his wand lights up so he can see where he's going and he raises his eyes back to Cas again, who seems to realise that Dean's not saying a word, for his head is no longer cocked to the side, his blue eyes no longer narrowed in both interest and understanding.

'I'll see you tomorrow, Cas.' Dean declares, reaching up with his free hand to ruffle Cas' hair, which is already standing up every-which-way, seeing as he seems to have perpetual bed hair, but Dean doesn't help the matter anyway.

He gives Cas another soft smile before he turns on his heel, heading down the corridor and Cas stays there until he rounds the corner and he can't see him anymore.Only then does he move, but instead of moving to start the walk back to his Common Room, he just reaches up to run a hand through his hair as well, a smile on his lips before he decides to start walking, and even then it's only because he's positive he heard footsteps coming from behind him.

Dean tries - and fails - not to overthink his action with Castiel as he walks back to the Common Room. People ruffle each others hair all the time, right? It's not like it was out of place. They do a lot of weird things together… and it's not like Cas minded, especially when this is _Cas_ he's talking about; the person who doesn't seem to understand the whole idea of "personal space". Surely he wouldn't mind an innocent hair ruffling.

And that's all it was, after all. It's not like Dean was just overcome by the sudden urge to have to touch his friend, because they were parting and going separate ways. It was just a cute way of saying goodbye… except Dean doesn't normally do cute.

A groan escapes from his lips but he's quickly shushed by a portrait that's trying to sleep, and after rolling his eyes, he closes his mouth, biting his lower lip just to make sure he doesn't make another noise as he continues to make his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

It was just… Cas had just asked him why he wasn't in Hufflepuff and it wasn't a simple question; wasn't like that one that Dean asked Cas ages ago about the meaning of his name.It was as if Cas was asking because he didn't really like the idea of having to leave Dean at that moment, and Dean sort of felt the same. There was peace and quiet and his mind stopped buzzing and it just felt _right_.

He almost told him about the memory that made the Hat change its mind. Dean knew it was the reason he was placed in Gryffindor. He knew there was nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff, but his mother was a Gryffindor and his father put emphasis on how that meant she was brave and special and Dean just wanted to be brave and special and like his mother; wanted to be good in his father's eyes.

So, when he was nothing more than a nervous eleven-year-old sitting on a rackety stool in front of a couple of hundred of people, and heard the Hat talk about putting him in a House that _wasn't _Gryffindor, he panicked. He thought of that night when he was only an innocent four-year-old, carrying his six-month-old brother out of their burning house and smiled when the Hat hummed, awestruck, and placed Dean in Gryffindor instead of Hufflepuff.

Dean knows he sort-of fits in with Gryffindor, but knows he would also fit in with Hufflepuff; maybe more so if that's where that Hat originally wanted to put him.

Then again, he does still think he belongs in Gryffindor; it's still the only connection to his mum that he has, and seeing her name on the plaques and thinking about how she would've sat in the room that he sits in with his friends is enough to put any guilt at bay.

But it turns out that Dean's so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't realise he's reached the Portrait Hole until there's a rather obnoxiously posh voice asking, 'Password?'

Dean blinks several times, his eyes focusing on the painting on the Fat Lady with a small frown on his face, before he clears his throat, 'Uh, yeah, _Snargaluff_?'

He knows it's the correct password, but it still doesn't stop him from saying it like it's a question, his mind so hazy at the moment that he doesn't even feel confident enough with giving the password to his Common Room.

The Portrait eyes him for a moment, and just before it swings open, it declares, 'It's a good thing you are pretty.'

And it says something about how tired and confused Dean is that he doesn't even protest to that. He just crawls through the Portrait Hole and heads straight for the dorm room, and after shucking his damp clothes, he collapses in bed in nothing but his boxers and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

It isn't until Dean wakes up the next day, thankful that it's a Saturday and that he gets to lie in and has no classes, that he finds out just how bad things got after him and Cas left the Room of Requirements last night.

He stirs as he wakes up, a groan breaking free from his lips as he stretches and turns his head to the side, his eyes hazy with sleep, and after blinking a good couple of times, he can finally see the time on the clock on his bedside table.

'Half nine? That's not a freaking lie in!' He declares angrily and he thinks about rolling over and falling back asleep, when he hears someone else's voice, he decides that now people know he's awake, he's got no chance of getting peace to fall back asleep again.

'When we're used to getting up at half six most of the time, I think it is.' Ash's voice declares and Dean groans again, sitting up and running a hand over his face, blinking more sleep out of his green eyes, before deciding to just rub it away with the back of his hand.

'I guess.' Dean admits, looking around the room to find the other beds empty but he doesn't really care. Ash is the only boy in his House that's in his year that he really talks to.

'So, what happened to you last night? Jo and me came back here and expected to find you, but you weren't here; didn't even come back before we went to bed.'

Dean's still rubbing his face with his hand as he slides from bed, making his way to the bathroom, his feet softly padding against the rich burgundy carpet.

'Yeah, me and Cas went outside and sat for a bit.' He explains and doesn't continue until he's back from the bathroom, after relieving himself. 'Didn't realise the time; only came back when it started pissing down with rain.'

Ash studies him for a moment, 'So… you'll have no idea what happened then?'

'With what?' Dean enquires and even though he's still sleepy and in that content stage, he knows that the next words out of Ash's mouth are going to ruin that. Nothing good could come from the discovery of Dumbledore's Army, and Dean's not sure he's prepared to find out just how bad things got.

But before he can tell Ash that maybe now isn't the best time, because he's still happy and almost oblivious feeling, Ash has started talking again.

'Dumbledore's gone.' Ash declares and doesn't elaborate any further, and Dean's not sure if it's because Dean's not fully awake yet or if he's just trying to be dramatic.

'Dumbledore's gone? What do you mean Dumbledore's gone?' Dean exclaims, looking around the room as if it held the answers, but when he realises what he's dong isn't doing any good, he turns back to Ash with a raised eyebrow. 'Come on, man, you can't just drop a bomb like that and not elaborate.'

'Not everyone was lucky with their escape last night. Harry got caught by Umbridge. They went straight to Dumbledore's office and she informed the Minister as well; he was there and everything. They were blaming Dumbledore for setting it up and apparently he just took the fall.'

'Did they take him to Azkaban? I mean, that's the kind of stupid thing Fudge's been thinking about doing for ages now. And treason isn't something they take lightly…' Dean trails off when Ash starts chuckling and Dean's jaw sets. 'What?'

'Do you honestly think Dumbledore's going to let Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, take him to Azkaban?' Ash questions and after a moment, Dean realises just how stupid the idea sounds, so he shakes his head. 'Exactly. According to Harry, Fawkes swooped down over him and he Disapparated in flames.'

Dean chuckles, 'The old man's definitely got style.' He declares before he realises just what Ash had said and wonders, 'I thought you couldn't Apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts?'

'Apparently Dumbledore can. I mean, I know _I'm _Dr. Badass, but I'm willing to admit that Dumbledore is badass as well.' Ash declares with a grin, before he walks over to the door, clapping Dean on the shoulder as he does so, 'Anyway, made agreements to meet Jo for breakfast, so I'll see you down at the Great Hall in a bit?'

He doesn't give Dean a chance to answer and he's through the door as soon as the wordsare out of his mouth.

Dean falls back onto the nearest bed, not really caring about the fact that it isn't his, before he decides that he can't just sit there. He moves over to his own bedding area, and after pulling on a pair of jeans and a black shirt, he heads down to the Common Room, suddenly determined to get out of his Common Room and head to the Hufflepuff Basement.

Most people who aren't in Hufflepuff don't really know where it is, but Dean does because Lisa, the girl he dated for most of his Fifth Year was in Hufflepuff, and he spent many nights sneaking out of Gryffindor and down to Hufflepuff in order to wait for her. He's actually surprised he hadn't got caught by Cas then, but then he remembers that Cedric was the Prefect last year… God, did this place have _any _happy memories?

He's just about at the Portrait Hole when someone shouts on him.

He turns to find Fred and George Weasley, waving him over to their little crevice in the Common Room. He looks back to the Portrait Hole, trying to decide whether or not to just go and get Cas when he decides that whatever they want him for won't take too long, so he turns on his heel and walks over to them, noticing that their friend Lee is also sitting beside them.

'What?'

'Well, we haven't really got anything specific yet -'

'- But we're determined to make our new Headmistress' life a living hell -'

'- And we were just wondering if you were up for it -'

'- When the time comes.'

Dean feels a grin pulling at his lips as he listens to the twins idea, and when Fred has finished their statement, he's smiling so wide his teeth are visible.

'You honestly think I'm going to say "no" to running that old boot out of Hogwarts?' Dean questions with a chuckle. 'Count me in. Let me know what you're planning on doing and I'll be there.'

'Lovely.' Fred and George declare in unison before they turn their heads together and start planning, and Dean's much more interested in getting to Cas than putting his two cents in, so he takes his leave, walking back to the Portrait Hole and crawling out through it, but before he moves away he turns back to the Fat Lady.

'Oi!' He calls, getting her attention and when she's raised her perfectly painted eyebrow at him, he points a finger at her. 'Don't call me "pretty" again.'

And with his grin widening even further, he walks away to the Hufflepuff Common Room, leaving the sounds of the Fat Lady's protests behind.

He's halfway to the Hufflepuff Common Room, so intent on his task to just get to it that he doesn't realise he's walked past the person he's coming to find; not until he's been shouted on three times and a hand lands on his shoulder.

'Dean!' Cas exclaims for the fourth time and even though Dean didn't hear him the first three, he can tell by the amount of exasperation in his voice that it definitely isn't the first time he's called his name.

'Where the hell did you come from?' Dean asks, looking around himself and realising that he's nowhere near the Common Room yet, and he turns back to Cas with a frown, who does nothing but give him a grin as he shakes his head amusedly.

'From my Common Room! I was just coming to find you, actually.'

'Really? I was doing the same!'

Cas chuckles, 'I thought as much. Either that or to the kitchens, but I don't see the point in that as breakfast is still being served. Have you had something to eat?'

Cas starts walking back the way Dean had just came from, and he realises this a moment too late and has to jog to catch up with him.

But instead of answering his question, he takes only one thing from Cas' previous sentence.

'You know where the kitchens are?'

Cas grins and nods his head, 'I'll have to show you sometime.'

And for some reason, that means something to Dean; makes him feel that little bit more special, because he knows that Cas could've just turned and told him where the kitchens were and how to get into them, or even more, just stayed silent and decide to not let Dean in on the secret of the kitchens. Instead, he's offered to _show _Dean.

Sometimes, Dean really can't get over the fact that Cas likes spending this much time with him; the others do it because they're family; Dean knows that. He knows that if they weren't related - by blood or not, because as Bobby once told him, "family don't end with blood" - they wouldn't even give him the time of day. Not really. They're all so much better than him.

But here was Cas, willing to spend as much time with Dean, and actually being sad and annoyed when he can't… last night was proof of that.

'So…' Dean starts as he remembers last night and what Ash told him this morning. 'Have you heard about-?'

'Dumbledore? Yes, Baltahzar filled me in this morning.'

'You saw Balthazar before you saw me?' Dean demands, not realising until the words are out of his mouth, how petulant and possessive he sounds.

_Not good_.

He's too busy looking around himself, trying to hide his sudden embarrassment, that he misses the sparkle that appears in Cas' eyes as a small smile appears on his lips, but almost as if he too is just remembering himself, it quickly turns into a grin.

Making Dean uncomfortable is never something Castiel can do, so in order to save him from his thoughts, which is probably a good thing, seeing as the Gryffindor looks like he's about to die, he enquires, 'So, you've never been to the kitchens? Dean Winchester, the lover of food, has never had the urge to find the kitchens for a midnight snack?'

Dean almost thanks him for the change in topic, and for not even answering his question, but then he realises that would bring the conversation back to the original one, which wouldn't be a smart idea, so he just sends him a thankful look which he hopes Cas understands, before answering, 'Well, I've had the urge, just haven't really wanted to spend ages looking for them. I'm not curious like Fred and George; I'm happy with what I know.'

Cas chuckles, 'Well, I'm not going to tell you right now, it's going to be a surprise, but let's just say it _is _probably a good thing you aren't a Hufflepuff, to be honest.'

They've reached the Great Hall by now, and they make their way over to the Gryffindor table after Jo and Ash wave them over. It isn't until Dean's sat down beside Cas that he realises just what that means.

'You lucky son of a bitch!' He gasps, gaping at Cas who wears a smug smile on his face as he grabs a slice of toast and starts to butter it.

'What? What happened? What?' Jo demands, but Dean just shakes his head and doesn't say anything as he grabs some food and starts to eat, but he definitely doesn't miss the fact that he finds his gaze lingering a little more on Cas' smug smile and nope. Definitely not good.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Easter holidays have been and gone, and with them, all the free time that Dean and Cas have and can spend together.

It annoys Dean, that him and Cas only share Defence Against the Dark Arts. And it doesn't help that Umbridge seems to think that _everyone _was a member of Dumbledore's Army until proven otherwise, so is really stepping up the work, and detentions. Dean stays quiet, though, not really wanting to get on her bad side, because whilst his first few detention with her were downright awful, it was nothing compared to what Harry got.

Dean was ready to hex the old toad when he found out about her having Harry write "lines". Only the ink was his blood and left a permanent scar on the back of his hand; "I must not tell lies". He can remember telling them that she should have "I am not a bitch" written all over her then, because clearly the old boot has something about irony. After all, Harry doesn't tell lies; she is a bitch.

So, he hardly gets a chance to talk to Cas inside the classroom, and then there's only a short period of time - like a really short period of time, like five minutes or maybe ten at the most - before he's heading off to Transfiguration, and Cas is going to Herbology.

He tries to fit Cas in whenever he's got a spare time, but Fred, George and Lee have came up with several brilliant ideas on how to make Umbridge go crazy, and Dean just can't not be a part of them.

He thinks about telling Cas and asking him to join in, but then he remembers that Castiel is _still _the Hufflepuff Prefect, and he doesn't want Cas getting into trouble.After all, if the four of them get caught they can deal with that, but it would be a million times worse for Cas as he's a Prefect and supposed to set an "example", so that's the reason he doesn't say a word to Cas.

But in reality, he probably should have, which is what he realises when he gets a shock when Cas isn't waiting for him outside Defence, after Dean was asked by Umbridge to collect in all the books. He thought Cas would automatically do it, and when he leaves the classroom, he's ready to rant about what a bitch Umbridge is when he notices that no-one is waiting on him.

He only took a minute or two gathering those damn books in, so he knows that Cas can't be all the way down to the greenhouses by now, and he seriously hopes he isn't even out of the castle, otherwise he's not going to be able to catch up with Cas as well as being on time for Transfiguration.

He breaks into run, bashing into several people's shoulders as he barges his way through the corridors, trying to find Cas and almost hurtling into him when he does.

'Cas!' He shouts, not really giving a damn that other people are staring at him now, especially when he notices Cas stop and turn to face him. 'Why didn't you wait on me?'

Cas frowns at him for a moment or two, almost looking lost as he juggles Dean's words over and over again in his head.

'I didn't know I was supposed to wait on you.' He declares, though what he really wants to say is "you haven't talked to me in _weeks_; what did I do wrong?". He just hops his eyes convey that message because he knows saying that aloud will sound really pathetic and just downright embarrassing.

And surprisingly, Dean does see it; recognises the look straight away, and he looks off the to the side, a hand coming up to run through his short blond hair before he turns back to Cas, who has his blue eyes cast down to the stone floor.

The halls are empty and Dean's definitely going to be late for Transfiguration now, and McGongall is going to be _pissed _but by the look of things, he needs to cling to the first real friendship he's had since… well, since forever. And he's willing to take the inevitable detention if he's honest.

'Look, it's not been on purpose, I just didn't want you to get into trouble.' Dean rushes, hoping that it explains everything, but all it does is make Cas frown deeper.

'Why would I get in trouble?'

'Fred, George, Lee and me have been planning a thing or two, to give Umbridge hell for… well… being the bitch that she is, and I honestly was gonna tell you and have you join in, but then I remembered you're a _Prefect _and you'll end up in a million times more trouble that us four. So…' he trails off, because he knows this is a fucking sorry excuse for not talking to his friend, for not making time for him, when he knows that Cas is pretty much only person who knows him and can stand being around him all the time. Sure he stands impossibly close and doesn't get most of Dean's jokes, but he's always a constant. Always just _Cas_.

'Fuck.' Dean hisses, turning away from Cas' questioning gaze again and it suddenly comes crashing down on him; he's a shitty friend, a shitty brother, a shitty _son_. No wonder his dad walked out on him; he's not worth sticking around for. 'Probably not a bad idea getting away from me.'

He sits down on the nearest thing he can, which just so happens to be a window ledge, and his bag falls from his shoulder and lands on the stone floor with a resounding thud; if Sam were with him he'd be complaining to Dean about not looking after his books properly.

But the thought of his younger brother isn't enough to put a smile on his face this time around.

He hears Cas sit down next to him but he doesn't raise his eyes to look at him; can't look at him at this moment in time as he's scared of what he's going to see. Hate? Probably. Rejection? Most definitely. He doesn't lift his eyes because he knows Cas is going to say goodbye this time around and going to mean it.It's going to be for good this time.

He's just thrown away the only real friend he's ever had.

God he's a screwup.

'Dean,' Cas starts and Dean braces himself for the inevitable. The "you're not good enough and will never be good enough" speech that's going to come any minute now. Cas' hand in suddenly on his shoulder and Dean's eyes finally rise to meet his, not really caring that there are tears stinging his eyes. The key is not letting them fall. 'I don't know what you think of me, but you mean more to me than being a Prefect.'

Dean doesn't realise just how strong those words really were meant to be - and doesn't until years later - but it's still enough of a affirmation that Dean's green eyes don't move away from Cas, even though they've been staring at each other for about five minutes straight now.

'Stupid thing to do, really.' Dean mumbles and he wants to move his eyes, cast them down to trace the stone of the floor, but for some reason he finds he can't; for some reason he wants to see the emotion pass over Cas' face and through his eyes. And he does, he watches a caring expression leave Cas' face, to be replaced with a small amount of anger, only to settle for exasperation instead.

'One day I'll find out why you've got such a small opinion of yourself, Dean Winchester. One day I'll find out why you don't think good things deserve to happen to you,' Cas muses, the exasperation leaving his face as a small smile finds its way onto his lips, happy to think that he's going to be in Dean's life long enough to find the answer to that question. 'But for now, know this, I'd follow you to Hell, Dean.'

'That's a pretty strong declaration, Cas.' Dean huffs out a laugh, because it's such a Cas thing to say; he's always go big or go home, but he honestly never thought he'd hear words like that; not just from Cas but from anyone. Someone willing to follow him to the darkest place on earth? That just doesn't happen.

It's then Dean realises that Castiel's hand is still on his shoulder, no longer a light touch but a firm grasp, as if he's almost afraid Dean's either going to flee away from him or disappear into thin air, even though Dean's got no intentions of doing either.

Cas' smile just widens, 'Doesn't mean it's not true.'

Cas' hand finally leaves Dean's shoulder, then and settles in his lap, and Dean feels his shoulder burning as if his handprint had just been scalded into his skin; a permanent mark from where Cas had touched him. And the tingly feeling doesn't leave, not as they sit there for the remainder of that period, not even as they head for lunch.

But Dean was definitely right, missing his class to fix his friendship with Cas was definitely more important than actually attending the class. Even though he knows he's going to get a decent amount of detentions for it, it doesn't matter, because he has his best friend back.

And his mind is once again settled, because he knows - for now at least - that Castiel is going nowhere, and Cas is realising the same thing about Dean.

They're in each other's lives now, and they're not leaving them any time soon; not if they can help it.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please review?<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	7. Chapter VII: Let Us Crack and Bleed

_**Here's another chapter! Enjoy! :D**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VII: Let Us Crack and Bleed.<strong>

To Dean, finding out where he stood in Castiel's mind was definitely the most important thing that happened all year.

Many people would disagree with all, there was the sacking of Dumbledore, then the fight at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries with Harry, Hermione, Ron and a few other members of the DA against Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange.

There was the Fred and George Weasley ditching out on school before sitting their NEWTs - something Dean knew was coming as they always talked about opening a joke shop. After lighting the Great Hall up with unstoppable fireworks, they disappeared from Hogwarts on their brooms, with the sound of the student's cheers following them.

There was also the boring matter of the Fifth Years sitting their OWLs, the Sixth Years sitting their end of term exams and the Seventh Years sitting their NEWTs, but that wasn't that special either. Not to Dean, because Dean didn't really care about all of that.

Dumbledore was back as Headmaster, the Minister finally admitted to Voldemort being back, Dean's certain he passed his exams with flying colours, and even though he's still pissed that he missed the chance to fight because him and Cas were in the Room of Requirements relaxing, he still doesn't care about it.

So yeah, none of it matters, because right now, he knows that he means something to Cas and Cas means something to him. He never really believed it before, after all, Dean had a warped image of Cas. He only saw him as the Hufflepuff Prefect… right up until Cas told him Dean meant more to him than his Prefect duties.

After that, Dean's starting to believe it, because you've got to care about someone if you're willing to get into a lot of trouble and lose your Prefect badge for them, right?

Right.

So maybe that's why he grabs onto Cas' sleeve just before they run through the wall to get to the other side of the train station, waving Sammy on ahead because what he's about to say will just provide too much fuel for Sam's blackmail.

Cas turns to him with a furrowed brow, 'Dean?'

'You're gonna write, right?'

A glint appears in Cas' eyes, 'I'm going right right? Right right what? Is this instructions on how to get out of the train station, because I believe it's left right.'

Dean playfully shoves his shoulder which causes Cas to let out a short bark of laughter, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so.

'Don't be a dick, man.' Dean murmurs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as the laughter dies down and he's struck by how embarrassing this actually is. Cas is is friend, it shouldn't be so freaking weird to ask him to keep in touch. So, why does it feel like his heart is going to leap out of his chest? Oh, that's right, he's expecting Cas to turn around and say no.

Despite the fact Cas explicitly said he'd follow Dean to hell - something Dean still can't get over - he still expects Cas to walk away from him and not look back. That's what most people do, after all. It's what his dad did.

'Well, Dean, I will write,' Cas replies and Dean lets out the breath that he didn't even know he was holding, before Cas continues, 'But, I don't have your address.'

Dean blushes the second the words leave Castiel's mouth; pink decorating his cheeks and highlighting all the freckles on his face which Cas smirks at, but doesn't comment on.

'Uh, right, well Sammy and me are staying at my Uncle Bobby's, so as least that'll be constant. Charlie got so pissed with how much we would travel that she stopped writing. By the time the owl got to the motel, we had moved on.' Dean explains, as he digs into his backpack for a spare piece of paper and after digging out a pen - he likes keeping them around, quills are too complicated for moments like this - he writes Bobby's address on it.

When he looks back to Cas to hand him the piece of parchment, he finally notices the expression on Cas' face and he falters, his hand with the parchment that's extended between them falls slightly before Cas catches it and pulls the parchment free from Dean's grasp.

'What? Did you change your mind?' Dean questions, even though Cas is now pocketing the address and when he's asked the question, Cas raises his blue eyes to Dean's green one and shakes his head.

'What have I told you about your view on yourself, Dean?' Cas murmurs. 'It's just… you never told me you and your dad used to move about; used to stay in motels all the time. That couldn't have been easy.'

Dean shrugs, once again being floored by the fact that Cas is his best friend and he's yet to tell him anything extremely personal about himself. But then again, the only person that knows nearly everything about Dean is Sam, and Sam is his brother and shared the life, so he automatically knows. Not to mention, how is he supposed to tell Cas things that only his blood knows?

_Family don't end with blood__, boy_.

Bobby's voice comes hissing into his mind and he sighs, because he knows that; knows that blood cells don't dictate who's family and who's not. After all, John is nothing but a dick, but Bobby, nothing more than a friend of his father, is more a dad to Dean and Sam than John ever has been; than John ever could be.

'I guess I'm used to it.' Dean opts for instead. Right now was definitely not the best time to be discussing this sort of all, Bobby is probably waiting on the other side of the wall, wondering where the hell he is, and if he waits anymore, he's going to get a short clip around his ear and a word or two in punctuality.

'Anyway, we better get a move on, everyone will be waiting on us.'

Cas nods his head in agreement and readjusts his grip on his trunk before they take a run at the wall and head through to the platform of the "normal" train station.

They stand for a moment or two, scanning the crowds for their families, when Cas nudges Dean's ribs with his elbow.

'My family's here. I'll see you in September, Dean.' Cas smiles warmly at Dean, before he turns and walks away to a crowd of four children, ranging in ages and heights, who stand beside a tall woman, her brown hair pulled into a perfectly tight bun, matching the perfect grey suit she wears. Her face is completely neutral as Cas walks towards them, and Dean frowns, because parent's are supposed to be happy about seeing their child again? Shouldn't she be smiling wide and opening her arms, ready to pull hi into an embrace?

Hell, it's saying something if even _John _was happy to see Dean and Sam at the end of term for the Summer Holidays.

Casisn't that too far away from Dean, so, after taking a deep breath and trying not to think that this is a _bad idea_, he calls, 'Don't forget to write, Cas!'

Cas' head whips around to look at him, his face pulled into an expression Dean has never saw on his face before; guilt and fright, but the second his eyes land on Dean, his lips pull into a wide smile and his eyes light up just that little bit. He raises his hand and gives a small wave, an act that shows Dean that he's heard him and that he promises not to forget.

He turns back to his family, then, and it occurs to Dean that they're all staring at him, and okay, yep, definitely not Dean's greatest idea.

He raises his hand in a meek wave to what he can only assume is Cas' mother, the four boys - though really three of them are men already - and the small girl with red hair who are all studying him with expressions ranging from curiosity to distaste.

Though, if he's honest, there's only one curious face amongst the sea of distaste, and that's the face of the young girl with the bright red hair. He tries to not let it bother him, because he doesn't forget the way Cas' face lit up when he called him, but he can't help but wonder what the hell is up with the family.

Dean clears his throat awkwardly, turning his back on Cas and his family before he starts to scan the room for his own. It only takes a minute when he spots Bobby who stands with Ellen, Jo, Ash and Sammy, and when they spot him, they wave him over.

Dean walks over to them, greeting Bobby with an apology about how late he was, before enveloping Ellen in a tight hug, and after Bobby's ruffles his hair in reply to his apology, they all turn and head towards the exit.

And despite telling himself not to, Dean turns and looks over his shoulder to the spot Cas and his family was standing, only to find them gone and even though he tells himself it doesn't bother him that Cas is actually gone, it really kind of does.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Cas' first letter comes two days after they said their goodbyes at the train station, and Dean kinda, sorta met his family.

It's nothing special really, just talking about how boring being home is and that he's already started counting the days until he's back to Hogwarts. He asks Dean how his holidays are so far, and Dean teases him saying that there isn't much to report about seeing as it's only the second day, and unless he called unpacking an exciting holiday activity, Dean has been doing nothing.

There's a little hesitance about the letter, Dean can sense it with the way Cas words it; with the topics Cas choses to talk about. But Dean understands that; letters are different from in-face conversations. He knows that after a few more letters back and forth, things will eventually settle and they'll find their tone again - just like him and Charlie did.

And they do.

It also turns out that not being in front of Dean makes it easier for Cas to let slip about his personal life. It's nothing major; Dean still hasn't got a clue what's wrong exactly, he just knows that something _is _wrong.

It's in the way Cas always talks about how he just wants to get out; whether it's Hogwarts or moving out to his own flat after school is finished next year. It's in the way he says he's sick of being obedient; of having standards that he's never going to meet and only being made to feel like a failure when he doesn't - and that's definitely something Dean can relate with, and he tells him as much.

His letters come regular as clockwork; every second day Dean wakes up to an owl pecking his window, having flown all night seeing as Bobby lives out in the country in the middle of nowhere, and Cas lives in the busiest part of London.

So, maybe that's why Dean feels like he's going to be sick when a whole week passes and he has yet to receive a letter from Cas.

He sends them, near enough everyday, just to see if Cas will reply. But he doesn't.

When he finally replies,the first thing he does is apologise and says that his family went away to his uncle's and he couldn't get to a owl because of course, his uncle is a Muggle.

Dean says he understands and they go back to normal and the rising anxiety bubbling under Dean's skin that whole week slowly simmers down until he forgets all about it, and almost laughs at himself for being so stupid and quick to jump to conclusions.

Then again, Dean should've known the universe doesn't like him feeling relaxed and _safe_; should've known it likes screwing him over more ways that he can count.

The letters start to become sparse once again; instead of coming every second day, he's lucky if they come every second week. He checks the Muggle mail that Bobby receives, just incase he had to resort to using Muggle mail if he had to go to another relative's house, but there's nothing. Not one little letter.

The anxiety starts to rise again, consuming him in flames until he finds himself sitting out on Bobby's porch, his head turned up to the sky, looking for any sign of an owl. It holds him still, making him wait outside as the temperature drops and his teeth start chattering, and the sky turns so dark that he couldn't even see an owl if he wanted to.

He only comes inside because Ellen wraps her arms around his shoulder and promises to bake him pie to make him feel better. Not to mention, the coldness and his hunger was really starting to eat away at him.

Fear, panic, guilt, worry, loneliness; they all claw at Dean from the inside, tearing him apart and leaving him with nothing but emptiness.

And by the time August comes, Castiel's letters have all but stopped.

He doesn't know what to feel when he realises that, just like with his promise to write, Castiel has failed to follow through on his side of another promise, because Dean's in hell and Cas didn't follow him like he said he would.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean's heart is pounding in his chest as he walks through the train station. His hands are sweaty and he keeps having to lift them from the bar on his trolley to wipe them on his jeans. He hasn't been this nervous about going to Hogwarts since he was eleven-years-old and his dad was walking him through the train station, talking about how brave Mary was because she was a Gryffindor, and that Dean's got to do her proud.

He knows that the reason he was nervous then, and the reason he's nervous now is completely different. He was nervous about going to a new school, with people he has never met and leaving Sammy all alone with John.

Surprisingly, he also knows the reason he's nervous now. It's surprising because most of the time, when he gets nervous, he has no idea what the feeling was for, but now, he knows _exactly _why his heart is trying to break free; why he's sweating; why his legs are threatening to give way.

Cas.

He hasn't heard a word from him since the last letter he sent, which was in the middle of July.

He knows that Cas is having trouble at home, he let it slip time and time again that his home life wasn't the best place, and Dean started to realise that his life was maybe just as fucked up as Dean's, but then, just as he was getting up the courage to ask what was wrong exactly with his home, Cas stopped writing. And Dean was left with nothing. No best friend to talk to; no-one to try and tell what's wrong.

Emptiness and rejection and worry ate away at him all summer until he was left with nothing.

Now, here he is, ready to board the train to Hogwarts once more, and he doesn't even know if Cas will be here.

Hell, he doesn't even know if Cas is _alive_. That bastard Voldemort and his fucking followers the Death Eaters could've targeted Cas and his family because he was a Muggle-born. Dean has no idea!

Then he tells himself not to be stupid because _something _would've come up in the _Daily Prophet_! They couldn't just let a full massacre go unprinted.

But then that means Cas just stopped writing him. For no reason. Maybe he just got tired of Dean and decided to cut him out of his life. He should've known it was coming; everyone does it with him eventually; everyone gets tired of him and his inability to open up and trust.

Lisa did; Victor, his old friend, did; his _Dad _did; hell, even Jo is touch and go with how she feels abouthim.

'Where you going, boy?' Bobby's voice pulls him from his thoughts and he stops straight away, turning back to look at Bobby, Ellen, Sam and the others, who are looking at him with confusion and concern.

He then looks at the wall they're standing by and recognition floods his mind.

He walked pass the wall that he's supposed to run through; he was so lost in his head, he nearly missed the exit.

'Sorry, sir.' Dean mumbles as he turns his cart and walks back to stand by them, not even realising what he'd said until Bobby is talking again.

'Don't call me "sir", son.' Bobby chides. 'I'm not your old man. It's Bobby or it's nothing.'

Dean does nothing but bow his head, unable to hide the voice in his head screaming at him "you're a screwup". It won't be long before Bobby decides he's not worth the effort either and decides to send him packing.

He'll keep the good son; keep Sammy, because whilst Sammy can be hotheaded at least he's determined, and his so much potential.

'Right, go on, Dean.' Ellen's warm voice directs him and after giving her a tight hug, he sets off at a run, mildly hoping that it's the wrong one and he's about to run headfirst into a brick wall. That'd be nice. That's just what he wants.

The impact doesn't come, even though he's still unsure if he actually _did_ want it, and he digs his heels into the ground in order to stop himself from crashing in to anyone.

He doesn't wait on the others coming through, knowing that they'll not really want to talk to him, not with the mood that he's in. Even though he's not necessarily _in _a mood, he realises, if anything he's actually lacking any real emotion.

He starts to walk, passing through the crowds of people, his head turning from side to side as he tries to find Castiel. It occurs to him, a moment later, that a year ago to this day was the first time he set eyes on Castiel. Sure, it was ages after it before they became friends - that wasn't until after the Christmas holidays - but it was a year ago today he finally set eyes on Cas and those startling blue eyes.

He wonders if he's ever going to see those eyes again.

But before Dean can worry himself any further, he sees a familiar head of messy black hair not that far away from him, and after sighing in relief, he shouts, 'Cas!'

Before they parted, Cas' head whipped wildly around to see Dean when he called to him in the train station, reminding him to write. It's a different reaction altogether, takes his timeand Dean sees his head fall ever-so-slightly, his shoulders stiffening as soon as he hears Dean's call, and Dean knows that posture; he's steeling himself; preparing himself mentally and physically… for what Dean doesn't know, but that's definitely the posture he wears.

Then he turns, slowly, hesitantly. His shoulders as still stiff, his head raised high and when he finally turns, it's Dean's turn to be shocked.

The eyes that Dean constantly finds himself thinking about are closed off; there's still a hint of wariness about them, as if he's not quite sure what Dean's going to do or say to him. But they're definitely closed off. There's bags under them as well; big dark circles and Dean can't help but wonder how many nights it's been since Cas last had a decent night sleep, or hell, a night's sleep at all.

His black hair is flat, no longer sticking up every which way with its perpetual bed hair, and Dean notices that it's not because it's been styled to be lying flat, but Cas' hair hasn't been washed; so heavy with grease that it doesn't have the ability to be fluffy and messily stand up on its ends.

His plump lips are dry and cracked; his clothes are dishevelled and haven't been ironed; there's several cuts on his face and Dean can see the ends of a dirty bruise just under the collar of his shirt.

'Cas?' Dean murmurs, his voice barely a whisper as he stumbles closer to his friend.

'Dean,' Cas greets, a smile briefly flickering onto his lips, but it almost seems like too much effort and it falls off almost immediately.

_When was the last time Cas had smiled? Did it hurt his cheeks to do it now?_ Dean wonders before he shakes his head and notices yet another cut on Cas' face; right on top of his right cheekbone; those high cheekbones.

Without even realising what he's doing, Dean raises his hand and cups Cas' cheek, rubbing his thumb over the cut on Cas' cheekbone. His friend hisses in return, obviously the cut still hurts and Dean immediately drops his hand, letting it fall like a dead weight back to his side once more.

'What's happened to you?'

It's the wrong question to ask, apparently, for Cas tenses up straight away. Dean doesn't see how the tension in his shoulders could get any tighter, but they do. He notices Cas' hands ball into fists, his eyes twitch as the narrow slightly, his jaw clenches, a muscle twitches. Dean gulps.

'What do you care?' Cas questions, his voice almost a sneer as he looks Dean up and down with those blue eyes. There's more emotion seeping through, but still not the kind Dean's used to seeing in his eyes; Cas' eyes are open, kind, _warm_. This… there's wariness now, anger… _loathing_, and Dean can't tell who it's directed at; whether it's for Dean or for Cas himself.

His mouth open and closes for a moment or two, unable to find a way to respond to that. It's not because he doesn't know what to say - _you're my friend Cas; you're hurt and I want to make it better _- but he's just caught so off guard by Cas actually asking that question, that he needs a moment to recover.

Unfortunately, Castiel isn't about to give Dean a moment to recover; not replying quick enough for his liking, Cas scoffs, shaking his head. He should've known. He's always like this; give, give, give and getting fucking nothing in return.

Not even from the one person he thought he would.

'I should go. I've got Prefect duties to do.' Cas declares and before Dean can say anything at all, whether it's "stop" or "I thought I was more important than being a Prefect" or "Cas, don't leave; I need you", he's turned on his heel and walked away, his head bowed and his shoulders still tense.

'Cas.' Dean whispers, though it still sounds like a scream to his ears, and Cas, not stopping; not even _glancing _back towards Dean as he boards the train, doesn't dull the sound.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean doesn't get a chance to talk to Cas on the train ride. He sees him walk past his compartment, and Dean's out of his seat the second he sees the familiar, yet unfamiliar, features. But then Cas turns to him, narrows his eyes in a _glare _and Dean swallows deeply and slowly sits back down as Cas turns away from him and walks past his compartment without another glance.

Cas is nowhere to be found as Dean, Jo, Ash and Charlie make their way to a carriage, and instead, he just climbs on to one with his friends, ignoring their questioning gazes. He keeps his head bowed, because he knows Cas will already be at the castle by now.

This is confirmed when they finally get inside the Great Hall, dressed in their robes and after saying goodbye to Charlie as she moves over to the Ravenclaw table with a promise to look out for Sammy once again, Dean, Jo and Ash make their way to the Gryffindor table.

Dean eyes flicker over to the Hufflepuff table and his eyes land on Castiel, who's sitting besides Balthazar, who also looks a little lost, but probably only because Cas has his back to him as well, his eyes firmly set to the front of the room. There's no-one there; even Dumbledore is still in his seat, talking to Professor McGonagall, but Cas still stares at the front, just waiting for the Sorting to start.

Dean's heart drops and he swallows hard as he sits down beside Jo, and just as he's about to tear his eyes away from Cas, his eyes catch those of Balthazar' hardly talks to the Hufflepuff, mainly because any time he even tries to talk to him, it always ends in one of them calling the other a dick - usually Dean calling Balthazar a dick, if he's totally honest. It never sits well with Cas - having his two closest friends fighting all the time - so he alway tries to keep them apart. Neither of them complain about that.

But now, here he was, his eyes locking with Dean's, raising a blond eyebrow at him before he nods his head to Cas' back. Dean swallows hard before he shrugs his shoulders at Balthazar.

Even though they're a table apart, Dean can see his jaw lock before he digs into his bag. He looks at Cas to make sure he's still got his eyes on the front of the Hall - which he does - before he writes something on a piece of parchment. He pulls out his wand and casts a spell on it so it shoots up in the air and after a few flutters, it lands in front of Dean.

With a frown, Dean picks the piece of parchment up, briefly looking to the front where Dumbledore stands, starting to it's not that important and will probably be the usual dribble - don't do this, don't do that - he unfolds the parchment and starts to read:

_What the hell is wrong with Cassie? What did you do to him, Winchester?_

Dean raises his head to find Balthazar staring at him with his eyebrow still raised. His frown distorts into one of anger a he digs into his bag and pulls out a pen. Trying to hold back his anger, he writes his reply "_Nothing. Why don't you ask your precious _**_Cassie_**_ what's wrong__; that's all I've tried to do", _before he sends it back over to Balthazar, landing on the table in front of him with a soft flutter.

Dean's almost positive Cas notices, sees the parchment fly across the room and land in front of Balthazar, his blue eyes briefly flickering to Dean, but he the moment is so fleeting he's not sure if it actually happened, or was just a trick of light.

Balthazar picks up the note before he reads it, his eyes narrowing at Dean in warning as soon as he's finished. He writes something else on the parchment, and Dean finds himself clenching his jaw, just waiting to see what the hell this dick is going to say now. He doesn't need anymore guilt on his shoulders, and anyway, it was Cas that stopped writing _him_. It's not like Dean did anything to Cas to make him stop.

_You and I will talk about this more, Winchester. _

Dean reads it and looks back up to Balthazar, who has turned to the front for the first time since he started talking to Dean. Trying his hardest not to write back a reply that says pretty much "_Bite me_", Dean instead turns to the front and tries to let Dumbledore's speech drone out the drumming in his mind.

But he should've known it would never work.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please review and let me know what you think! :D<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	8. Chpt VIII: You Were Once Important To Me

_**Here's another chapter! Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VIII: You Were Once Important To Me.<strong>

Dean never really expected to talk to Balthazar about Cas, purely because of the fact that they pretty much hate each other. Then again, they did have one common interest; their mutual friend Castiel Novak.

So, maybe that's why Dean is torn between being completely surprised and totally expecting it when Balthazar corners him in the corridor just as he's leaving the Great Hall.

'Hold it, Winchester.' He states and all Dean can do is just roll his eyes, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow.

'What do you want Roche?'

'I want to know what's wrong with our darling Cassie.' Balthazar replies and Dean grinds his teeth together. He's probably the one Cas has been talking to all Summer; forgetting about Dean so he can spend more time with the smooth ass dude with the deep and smooth voice.

Well, fuck him, and fuck Cas for thinking that Dean didn't care about his problems; didn't want to help him.

Except Dean can't do that, he can't just forget about Cas; telling him to go and fuck himself because he doesn't think Dean would help. He can't do that. If anything, he wants to go and ask him what happened again, make it clear that he's not going anywhere until Cas tells him everything and he knows that Dean cares about him, because of course Dean cares about him. There's a reason he's been worried sick for months now, and it's not because he didn't care. Quite the opposite

However, this isn't Cas standing in front of doesn't even know where Cas is now, probably ran away as soon as the Welcoming Feast was over.

It's Balthazar that's standing in front of him, and he wants answers; answers that Dean doesn't have.

'Listen, Balthazar, I haven't got a fucking clue what's happened to _your _darling Cassie,' Dean sneers and he doesn't miss the way Balthazar's eyebrows raise at his words. Since when did think Cas was his? 'If you want to know what happened, ask him and maybe if he tells you, you can enlighten me. All I wanted to know was where he got the bruises and cuts from; why he looked like he'd been living on the streets for the whole of the Summer Holidays, and he told me fuck all. So, tell your _darling Cassie _that if he wants to talk, he knows where I am, but other than that, fuck him and fuck you, 'cause I've done nothing wrong.'

With that said, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving Balthazar with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, his blue eyes still studying Dean's back as he leaves him behind.

Dean's got enough to deal with; he doesn't need this added guilt on his shoulders. If Cas doesn't want Dean in his life, then fine. Dean's got to deal with his NEWTs this year, and he's got to get good ones. He wants to, _needs _to, follow in his mother's footsteps. He needs to get either Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations on his exams, though he'd be better off getting an Outstanding just to make sure he could accepted for Auror training. They couldn't say "no" to someone who got five Outstandings, right?

God, who the hell is he kidding? What are the chances of him making it as an Auror in this time? Voldemort and his Death Eaters running around as if they own the place and as much as he hates admitting it, they pretty much do.

He's talked to McGonagall, he knows how hard it is to be accepted into the Auror training, and it's going to be even worse now. They don't know who to trust, whether they're really intent on being Aurors or just trying to get into the Ministry to help Voldemort.

There's got to be a good deal of people working in the Ministry that are working for Voldemort; hidden Death Eaters that are using their position to leak information.

Who the hell does he think he is?

He shakes his head before he gives the password to the Fat Lady, and after giving a small huff, he climbs through the Portrait Hole.

He can't even keep his friends, how is he supposed to make it as an Auror?

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean doesn't get a chance to talk to Cas until a few weeks before the Christmas Holidays. Things have changed with his classes and he doesn't have any of them with Castiel now.

Not that Dean's complaining about that, he's still pissed that Cas doesn't trust him enough to tell him about his problems. That he doesn't think Dean _cares _about him. So, he's thankful that he doesn't have to sit in the same room as him, otherwise he may've lost it by now; either deciding to shout at Cas and tell him that's being a selfish bastard, or start throwing punches - neither of which is a good idea, he realises.

And he keeps hoping that he doesn't bump into him at all, because he knows that one look at his face; seeing those blue eyes closed off and stony again would break something inside of Dean, and he's not sure whether fists would start flying or if tears would start flowing; maybe a bit of both.

He shakes his head. What are the chances of him bumping into Cas? He hardly came out of his Common Room before Dean knew him, and it was only with Dean's coaxing that he came out when they were friends, but he's pretty certain that he's just sitting in his Common Room once more, secluded in one corner with a book or something.

Dean scoffs, turning another corner as he heads back to his Common Room aftervisiting Charlie at the Ravenclaw Common the holidays she broke up with Gilda, only because she was moving to France and Charlie knew she couldn't do the long distance thing again. She was pretty torn up about it but that's where Dean came in, comforting her and that's why he's out after hours, despite the fact he hasn't done it since Fifth Year.

'Excuse me?' A voice sounds and Dean stops, freezing mid-step before he gulps. He closes his eyes and bows his head, his breath catching in his throat as the voice calls again, 'What are you doing?'

He swallows hard again before he turns on his heel, slowly turning around to face the owner of the voice; the face of Castiel.

He watches as Cas' face changes, turning from the closed off, authoritative, "Prefect mode", to pain and hurt and confusion before falling blank; no expression whatsoever, not even a hint or trace of emotion.

'Dean.' He mutters curtly and Dean's half expecting him to turn on his heel and storm away, but he stays in the same place and Dean can see some feelings breaking through his wall; hurt being the most prominent one, and it seems to make things seem better, because he'd rather see pain on Cas' face than see nothing. As twisted as that sounds.

'Cas?' Dean replies, a brief smile tugging at his lips before it quickly falls off, because he's still pissed at Cas, still annoyed that Cas didn't even trust him one bit to tell him _anything_. But this is his friend, his best friend, and he can't stay mad at him, no matter how much he tries.

He takes a step forward and feels a bit better when Cas doesn't back away, doesn't thaw out and run. So, he takes another step and another until he's a metre or so from Cas, and that's when he stops, because he's not wanting to get any closer and scare him off. He knows Cas isn't a scared little animal, but he doesn't want him to run; this could be his chance to patch things up. He's not going to let it slip through his fingers.

He doesn't say anything, not sure what to say to his friend… ex-friend… or whatever the hell they are now! Dean's certain that Cas is always going to be his best friend, he just isn't surewhether or not Cas will continue to give Dean that title.

So, in the silence of the corridor, he takes that moment to study Cas and notices that the cuts on his face are disappearing. There's just a small silver line on his cheekbone now, the others have all completely disappeared. Dean knows from his previous experience that by the time the Christmas Holidays are over, that silver line will have disappeared completely.

His green eyes trail to Cas' neck, trying to see the remnants of the ugly bruise he saw there the first day of term, and he sees that it's yellow and fading. It settles something in Dean's stomach, something that he didn't even know was twisting and churning inside him.

'You really shouldn't be out at this time,' Cas eventually says and Dean frowns at him, his eyes darting away from the bruise to meet his gaze. 'You could get into trouble.'

Dean doesn't know how to feel about that; uncertainty floods his veins because is this Cas caring about him? Does he actually care whether or not Dean gets detentions or gets in trouble, even though he spends no time with him nowadays? Does this mean that Cas isn't going to write him up like he should do? Let the Head of House, in this case McGonagall, know that Dean was wandering the corridors at night, after hours?

'Charlie broke up with Gilda… she's not exactly in the best of places.' Dean trails off because he's not sure why he's telling Cas this; does Cas even care about Dean's friends anymore? But at least it explains why he's out at this time at night.

More feelings flood Cas' expression and Dean finds himself thanking his stupid runaway mouth. There's curiosity there now, and it's starting to outweigh the hurt and pain and he's almost thanking the fact that Charlie broke up with Gilda because it was that information that caused Cas' expression to change… but that wouldn't be a nice thing to do, so he doesn't. Not even one little bit.

'What happened?'

'Gilda's moving to France, to Beauxbatons with all this fighting going on. Her parents aren't really one to fight and such, so they're going there to get away from it. And Charlie knows that she won't be able to do the long distance thing, so they broke it up.' Dean finds he can't tear his eyes away from Cas', even though he's wants to. 'Even though it was her decision, it doesn't stop her from being upset, y'know?'

Cas nods his head, not saying a word and Dean can't really blame him. What was he supposed to say? But then he's talking anyway.

'Tell Charlie I'm sorry; it's not easy losing someone you…' he trails off and looks down to the ground and Dean feels his heart clench.

'Cas,' Dean starts, taking more steps closer until he's pretty much pressed up against his friend. He looks straight into his eyes, and before he knows what he's doing, he's got both of his hands on Cas' shoulders and he holds on for dear life. 'You need to talk to me, man, you can't bottle this up. Tell me what's wrong, I can-'

He falls silent, his fight faltering when he sees Cas closing up once more, his eyes turning steely once more and he shrugs out of Dean's grasp. Dean's hands fall limply at his sides once more, and he clenches them into fists, trying to stop himself from punching either the wall or Cas.

'Oh,' Cas sneers, his lip curling and he takes a step closer to Dean, firmly pushing himself up against Dean's chest and he tilts his head upwards to look into Dean's green eyes, seeing as he's an inch or two taller than Cas. 'I see how it is, _you _don't have to talk about your family and your fucked up life, but _I _do, just because I'm shutting _you, _the amazing _Dean Winchester_, out?'

Dean feels himself shrinking away with each word coming from Cas' mouth and he swallows hard, instinctively taking a step back from him, but Cas follows him, making sure that he's still crowding in on Dean's personal space; still crowding in on him and making him feel uncomfortable, and he never thought he'd say that about Cas. Never.

'Cas.'

'Save it, Dean. You can take your damn hypocrisy to the others and leave me alone, 'cause I'm not fucking interested.'

And with those words and a final sneer towards Dean, he turns and walks away.

And all Dean can do is stand frozen to the spot, watching his best friend disappear.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

After meeting Cas in the corridor that night; after having his friend hiss those words at him; after seeing Cas glare and sneer at him, Dean's firmly decided to have a permanent attitude of "fuck you" towards Cas. He just wanted to help, there was no need to react like that.

_Except there was_, something in the back of his mind declares and he grinds his teeth together, turning over in his bed at his Uncle Bobby's house to bury his head in his pillow.

'What're you doing, Dean?' Sam's voice sounds from the door and he lifts his head to see his little brother leaning against the frame of his bedroom door.

'Braiding my hair!' Dean retorts, rolling back ver so he's lying on his back again, and with the new space created, Sam walks over and sits down on his bed. 'What the hell does it look like? I'm sitting in my room, sulking.'

'Care to tell me what you're sulking about?' Sammy prods but Dean just raises his eyebrow and scoffs, turning his head away from his brother as he pulls himself up so he's sitting once more, his back resting against his wooden headboard.

'Not really, Sammy, that's why I was doing it _alone_.'

Sam bites his lip, turning his gaze away from his older brother for a second, his brown eyes scanning the room for a minute before he sighs and turns back to Dean.

'It's about Cas, isn't it? That's who you're sulking over, right?'

Dean's silence proves his point, so he narrows his eyes marginally and waits until Dean finally meets his eyes once more before continuing, 'What the hell happened? You've been so fucking depressed since the summer!'

'Watch your language!' Dean admonishes before rolling his eyes. Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He's not going to start acting like Sam's father even more than he already does; he doesn't deserve that weight on his shoulders either. They've got Bobby; Bobby will look after Sammy now.

'Like hell will I "watch my language"!' Sam retorts, his eyes narrowing even further. 'Tell me what the hell happened between you two!'

There's something about the way he's looking, about how desperate and determined he is to get Dean to talk that Dean does; he tells him everything. About Cas agreeing to write, about him stopping out of the blue, about him being cut and bruised and filthy at the train station and then about their meeting in the corridor two weeks before the Christmas Holidays.

When he's finished, he starts a mini rant about how Cas had no right telling him to go to hell, because Dean just wanted to make sure everything was fine with Cas and make him feel better, and he's just about to Cas call every name under the sun when Sam cuts him off with a scoff.

'He was right, Dean!' Sam exclaims, rolling his eyes as his older brother looks hurt but he doesn't really care; he need to make his brother see sense, instead of driving an even bigger wedge between himself and Cas, the only friend he's really had outside of family since Charlie. 'You expected him to talk to you when you don't do the same thing with him? Trust is a two-way street, Dean, you need to remember that.'

And with those words, Sam rises from his bed and walks out of Dean's bedroom, leaving him alone once more with nothing but his thoughts.

He lets out a shaky breath.

Jesus fucking Christ, he was a hypocrite. Who was he kidding? Of course Cas had every right to snap at him and walk away from him, telling him to fuck off and leave him alone.

Dean has yet to tell him anything; he hasn't told Cas that his dad left, even though he's sure that Cas knows that with the way he talks, but he hasn't told him the story. He hasn't told him about his mother or how that's affected him. Hell, he hasn't even sat down and told Cas stupid little facts about himself, like his favourite colour or his favourite sports and the team he supports, and he's expecting Cas to turn around and tell Dean what happened with him over his holidays?

And he didn't even realise it until _younger brother _pointed it out to him. He's in his seventh year, and his brother is only in Third Year, and here he is getting told off by him. He's really that stupid and childish and fucked up that his thirteen-year-old brother had to call him out on his shit.

Well, he's not going to be like that anymore. He knows Cas and he needs Cas in his life and he's not about to sit back and let him walk out of it. Fuck that. He's going to fight; it's been a long time, a really long time, since he fought to keep someone in his life.

And if anyone is worth fighting for, it's the nerdy little Hufflepuff that said he'd pull Dean out of hell.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

He's determined. That's definitely obvious. They've been back for three weeks and despite his recent revelation that he's not going to let Cas disappear from his life that easy, it's much easier said than done. He doesn't have any classes with Cas, and NEWTs are really becoming a pain in his ass, with every single teacher giving him homework every single lesson. And he knows that his homework, his NEWTs come first, and okay, that sounds really fucking weird coming from Dean's mouth but he knows it's true.

But now, he doesn't have to worry about that. He's worked all fucking weekend, missed a trip to Hogsmeade just to make sure all his essays are complete and now he has nothing left to do, hence the reason he's storming through the corridors, heading to the Hufflepuff Common Room to tell Cas that he's not letting him be so fucking stupid; that he's not shoving Dean aside that easy and that Dean's not letting go of Cas unless Cas explicitly tells him that's what he wants.

He's got everything planned out, right down to the last detail, but the one thing he didn't have a plan for was Cas not being in the Common Room. But how was Dean supposed to thing about that? The little nerd normally never left the Common Room!

But he should've known, Dean's got no freaking first time he gets a chance - or nerve - to confront Cas, trust Cas not to be there.

'Where the hell is he?' He demands, his green eyes narrowing as they study Balthazar, not sure whether to trust the other Hufflepuff or not. He's still a dick in his eyes and maybe he's saying Cas isn't in the Common Room just to keep Dean from seeing him; maybe Cas is in there and Balthazar is just being a jealous, annoying little prick.

'He's not here, Winchester,' Balthazar retorts and Dean's jaw locks. 'He told me he wanted some peace and quiet, before he left. I asked where he was going and he didn't tell me. And I'm quite sure I wouldn't tell you anyway; don't you think you've hurt him enough?'

'Oh, go and fuck yourself.' Dean hisses before he turns on his heel, planning on heading back to Gryffindor Tower and taking this as a sign that hey, maybe him and Cas aren't supposed to best friends. Maybe this is fate telling Dean to forget it.

'Fuck fate.' He declares to the empty corridor, earning him a frown from the passing Fifth Years. But he doesn't care. Fate is nothing. He wants to be friends with Cas and he's going to be friends with Cas. Fate's not getting a say in the matter.

Now he just needs to think about where the hell would Cas be.

_Peace and quiet_. That's what Balthazar said he was looking for. Where would Cas go if he wanted peace and quiet?

Dean stops walking, pausing in the middle of the corridor in order to think, _really_ think, about where Cas would go if he wanted to be alone. It had to be somewhere that not a lot of people knew about, but where the hell in Hogwarts was a… secret…?

'Dean, you stupid son of a bitch!'

He takes off at a run, glad he knows this castle like the back of his hand, thankful for all his days running about with the Weasley twins because he knows shortcuts now. Knows how to get from the corridor he's at now to the one he needs to get to quicker than most people could.

_I need to find Cas. I __need__ to find Cas. _He thinks as he runs down the corridor and sighs with relief when he hears the sound of the door appearing from nowhere.

He takes a deep breath, trying to get his breathing back to normal, trying not to get his hopes up incase Cas isn't actually here. Then again, this was their space; it was more their space than it was Dumbledore's Army's. Why wouldn't he be here?

He reaches out and puts his hand on the door handle and with a shaky exhale, he opens the door.

He holds his breath as he enters the Room of Requirements, hoping and praying to both God and Merlin hat Cas is there; that he's where Dean thought he would. It doesn't just mean that he's finally found Cas, it means that he knows Cas as good as he think he does, knows where he goes in his times of trouble. It doesn't matter that he knows fuck all about his personal life, because he knows how his mind works and how his heart beats; he knows _Cas_.

And that would mean everything to him, knowing that he still knows his best friend; knows that fate has no fucking part in this; it's what Dean wants and hopefully what Cas wants too.

He sighs in pure relief when he sees the outline of someone sitting on one of the comfy chairs in front of the fireplace, and Dean frowns when he finally has a chance to look around the room. This… it's made up exactly like Gryffindor Common Room; Cas has been in there, he knows that from nagging the Prefect into breaking the rules, living a little and practically dragging him inside the Common Room.

Who'd have thought that his "peace and quiet" area was the Gryffindor Common Room? It somehow settles something inside of Dean, because this clearly shows him that Cas hasn't forgotten about Dean; doesn't hate him like he makes out sometimes.

'Cas?' He ventures, closing the door behind him so no-one else can stumble in on them; not now, not when Dean's determined to fix everything between them.

He knows he probably wasn't supposed to catch it, but he does; the barely audible sigh of defeat and Dean swallows hard at the sound. Here Cas is, sitting in the Room of Requirements which has shaped itself to look like Gryffindor Common Room, and he's sighing as if he _still _doesn't want Dean here. Talk about mixed signals.

It always seems like one step forward and twenty back when it comes to Cas; though he's certain the feeling is mutual.

'How did you find me?' Cas enquires, not looking around to face Dean and because of this, Dean doesn't move continues to stand by the door – or where it would be if it were still there – and stare at the back of his head.

Dean takes a hesitant step forward, only one step closer before he stops, his hands curling into fists to stop himself from doing anything else. He can't go losing his temper. Not now.

'I went to the Hufflepuff Common Room, and that dick… uh, Balthazar,' he quickly corrects himself, 'said you weren't there and that you were looking for "peace and quiet" and, well, it took me a minute or two, but then I realised that if you were looking to be alone, you would come here looking and the Room would've shown itself.'

Cas hums softly, before he enquires, 'So how did it show for you?'

Dean reaches up to rub the back of his neck, even though no-one is around to watch or see the glimpse of embarrassment and nervousness shown on his face.

'I, uh, I thought about finding you, well, _needing _to find you.'

'"Needing" to find me?' Cas asks, finally turning to face Dean, who in turn lets out a shaky breath as he takes another two steps closer. There's another chair sitting in front of the roaring fireplace and Dean can't help but wonder if Cas has imagined Dean sitting there; wishing he was there. Something tugs inside him when that thought occurs to him, but he doesn't think much of it as he makes his way over to sit in the empty seat. It could just be coincidence after all. The Common Room _does _have two seats normally.

'Yep, needing to find you, Cas.' He clears his throat and turns his head, looking to the fire but he turns back to Cas when he hears him scoffs.

'Well that certainly clears things up.' Cas mutters sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

Dean clenches his jaw in order to stop the reply that's bubbling and brewing in his mouth. He needs to keep a cool head, the last thing he needs is Cas getting pissed and leaving because they get into yet _another _petty argument.

They really needed to learn to talk, that's for sure. How do you talk to someone that your not sure wants to listen?

'My mum died when I was four,' Dean says instead and from the corner of his eye, he can Cas sharply turn his head to look at Dean, wide eyes and raised brows, but Dean continues to stare at the fire. He doesn't continue straight away, trying to sort his thoughts, stop any tears and find the _courage _to keep going prevents him from continuing straight away, but after a minute or two, with Cas waiting patiently, he continues, 'She was an Auror; she's the one Sammy and I got magic from. My dad's just a Muggle. She, uh, some Death Eater didn't believe Voldemort was _dead_, just that body was, and that he needed another vessel or something, I'm still a little iffy on the details.

'He thought Sam was that vessel apparently - something Dad and me and everyone else that knows have never told Sam - and Mum caught him trying to take Sam. She shouted, Dad heard and came running up, managed to get Sammy out and gave him to me, told me to take him outside and not to stop. So I did. He was six-months-old at the time, tiny, and I wasn't that big either but I needed to save Sam.'

He stops for a breath, reaching up to shakily wipe away a tear that he told himself would not fall.

'Apparently by the time Dad went back in to save her, the whole room was on fire. They still don't know what the hell happened, but there was, there was nothing left of her.'

He falls silent, looking down at his hands which are clasped firmly together, twisting and untwisting and Dean didn't even realise he was doing it.

The shaky exhale that follows is enough to break Cas out of his stunned silence.

'I'm sorry.' He declares, his voice cracking and Dean looks up then, confused, but when he sees tears in Cas' eyes; pity and fondness and a caring expression are mixed up on his face and the second he meets his eyes, Cas' hand is suddenly on top of his and he looks down at it with a frown. 'You didn't have to tell me that, Dean.'

'But I did, Cas!' Dean affirms, his eyes looking up and locking with Cas' azure ones and he shakes his head, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he opens them again. 'Cas, I had no right asking you to tell me everything without giving you something in return. I was a fucking idiot, no seriously,' he adds when Cas chuckles as if he's joking. 'It took Sammy, my thirteen-year-old brother, telling me I was being stupid to realise I was.'

He then shakes his head again because he hears how that must've sounded, 'Not that I told you this just so you'd tell me whatever happened over the holidays, I just… I just thought you had a right to know. That's all.'

He looks back down to his hands, which still has one of Cas' placed over the top of them, and he feels a small blush creep up his neck and wishes that it would go away. But there's a nice warm feeling buzzing away in his stomach when he looks at their hands, Cas' gingerly laying on top of his, a simple sign of comfort that Cas probably doesn't realise how much it means to Dean.

'I don't remember much about her,' Dean eventually continues when the look in Cas' eyes becomes to much for him, and the silence becomes too deafening. 'I know everyone says I look like her; same eyes and mouth and that. I know she used to sing "Hey Jude" to me instead of a lullaby and she used to make me the same soup her mum made her when she was sick. But sometimes, I forget what she looked like or smelled like.

'My dad was never around, determined to hunt down the bastard down, we travelled about, staying in motels, sometimes at my Uncle Bobby's but I pretty much raised Sammy. And now my dad's left to go and fuck up another kid, so it looks like I'm all Sammy has now.'

And wow, he didn't think he was still so pissed at his dad for walking out. But oh, who was he kidding? He's always going to be pissed at his dad for just walking out on them; acting like he's changed and that he's going to be a good father, seen the error of his ways and is trying to make it better, but no, he just wanted to lull them into a false sense of security and couldn't even be man enough to tell Sam and Dean the news to their face.

Yeah. He's always going to think his dad is nothing but a dick.

'I know you must resent your dad, but at least you knew him. My dad left when I was only eight-years-old; they don't tell me why, but I can't escape the feeling that he left because I was magic. It was a perfectly normal family until I came along. Michael, Raphael, Gabriel are all loved and adored by the street and my little sister, Anna, is considered an _angel_ amongst them. I've got another brother, called Lucifer, yeah, I know,' he adds when he sees Dean's expression. 'He's the second oldest, just a year younger than Michael, and, I don't know him. He got kicked out for fighting with my dad when I eight; even though he left three months later.'

Cas takes a deep breath in, his hand tightening briefly over Dean's hand.

'As for the cuts and bruises this year… Raphael has always had a… problem with everything. It's not like the others readily accepted me, but something _stuck_ with Raphael. I was seventeen and I was able to use magic, so I wanted to use magic. He walked in when I had enchanted the knife to spread honey on my toast, and things… escalated.' He sighs. 'He started shouting and that got the attention of everyone else, and my family didn't know what to do, but Raphael started hitting me then. Michael and Gabriel rushed to get him off of me, but I did what came instinctively. I cast a spell on him. And I guess the Ministry is screwed up, because I didn't even get a letter saying I had a ticket to Azkaban for using magic in front of a Muggle.'

Cas shakes his head, and Dean can see the pain that's clear in his eyes, as if he's waiting for Dean to turn and leave for being like that with family. So, Dean turns his hand that still has Cas' resting on top of it, lacing their fingers together before he even realises what he's doing. The minute he realises, however, he thinks about pulling his hand free, but then Cas gives his hand a soft squeeze and the thought leaves Dean's mind. He needs this just as much as Dean does.

Dean lets out an unamused chuckle as he squeezes back, 'God, we're really fucked up, ain't we?'

Cas join in, chuckling with him as he runs his thumb over the back of Dean's hand, trying to soothe him and hopefully not spooking him. He takes it as a good sign when Dean gives his hand another tight squeeze and doesn't let go.

'Yeah, we really are.' Cas mumbles, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he sees Dean make a "gee, thanks" face, as if he was expecting Cas to protest that fact; say that they weren't fucked up and a little bit of trouble at eighteen-years-old was totally normal. He chuckles again, turning his head to briefly gaze at the roaring fire in front of them. 'At least we've got each other though; to be fucked up together?'

Dean lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head in amusement at his friend, before he shakes his head once and then nods it. A wide smile tugging at his lips and it feels like the widest, realest smile he's gave in a long time.

'Yeah, Cas, at least we've got each other.'

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><p><em><strong>Please review? It would mean the world to me! :D<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	9. Chapter IX: We Were Meant to Fall Apart

_**sorry for how long this took! ;D thanks for your review! they mean a lot to me!**_

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><p><strong>Chapter IX: We Were Meant to Fall Apart.<strong>

'What do you want to do when you leave, Hogwarts, Cas?' Dean enquires, raising the bottle to his lips once again. His green eyes are cast upwards towards the midnight sky, and he lowers the bottle of beer once more, placing it in between his thighs to stop it rolling away from him.

He had no idea what made him come up here, and drag Cas with him as well… well, he knows why he dragged Cas with him; Cas his best friend, who he's finally talking to again; Cas his best friend, who told him about his life and Dean in turn told Cas about his. That's why he dragged Cas up to the roof with him, because the very idea of being apart from him made him feel like a cloud of anxiousness was hanging over him. After being without him for weeks, he didn't want him to be gone for that long of a period again.

He knows that it's been _months _since that, thoughit doesn't stop him from worrying. He's been Cas' friend for longer than he wasn't, but Dean's brain can't seem to comprehend that. He's still worried Cas is just going to vanish into thin air again; tell Dean that he doesn't care about him anymore; _leave _again. He's just _scared_. Pfft, if only his dad could see him now.

And he doesn't know how he's going to deal with tomorrow; saying goodbye to Cas and not knowing when he's going to see him again. They haven't talked about it, Dean's put it off, thinks he'll burst into tears if he has to start talking about it, and he's already cried in front of Cas once, when they were talking about his mother, he definitely doesn't need to do it again.

But he knows that he isn't going to like tomorrow one bit, and seriously wishes it didn't have to come.

'It'll depend on my NEWT results, of course, and what's happening with the Death Eaters. I do not know if they'll let me have a job at all; being a Muggle-born.' Cas replies as he too raises his bottle of beer - that he helped Dean smuggle from the kitchens, after convincing the elves to get them some - and takes a gulp.

He had protested to it at first, but then Dean pulled that stupid puppy dog look with those stupid green eyes and he was lost. Not to mention, it was his last day at Hogwarts now, he technically wasn't a Prefect anymore. He could do whatever the hell he wanted now that he didn't need to set an example for the younger years, and this is what he wanted to do. He wanted to climb onto the roof with his best friend, have a couple of drinks, and wish tomorrow didn't have to come.

'God, NEWTs, I have managed to forget about those, Cas!' Dean whines, holding his beer mere centimetres from his lips as he no longer wants to take a drink at the mention of those damn exams.

_NEWTs. _He had finally sat them all; Defence Against the Dark Arts was a dawdle, even with Snape as his teacher this year - nothing was going to shake his passion and love for it - so he can say with strong confidence that he's passed that; maybe even with flying colours and an Outstanding.

The others are iffy, though. Herbology and Muggle Studies he can see himself passing quite easily as well. Maybe even Charms. Truthfully, the only ones he's panicking about now is Transfiguration and Potions. It's not that he's struggling with them, but he needs at _least _an "Exceeds Expectations" on his exams, but much more preferably an "Outstanding" on all of them if he wants to make it as an Auror.

Cas says nothing in reply, just gives a small chuckle and maybe the beer is loosening him up, because it's a low rumbling laugh that Dean very rarely hears from him. He doesn't ask what Dean wants to do when he leaves Hogwarts in return, either, but only because he knows.

He knows that Dean wants to make it as an Auror; even knows why. He felt like telling Dean that he shouldn't be basing his future off his mother; that he should make decisions based on who he wants to be, and that his mother would be proud of him regardless. But he can also understand his desire to make it as an Auror, his mother did it and he wants to feel close to her; wants to be as good as her and wants to show his father that he can be good, but Cas also wants Dean to understand that his father should love him, no matter what he decides to do as a career. That he shouldn't be trying to please the man that didn't stick around in the first place.

Cas of all people knows how much it can ruin you, trying to please a distant father. It ruins your life; moulds you into something you aren't, and makes it near enough impossible to break free from that mould.

Cas also nearly told Dean that his mother would be proud of him, no matter what. Sure, Dean never used the words "to make my mum proud" exactly, but the implication was as loud as a roar. He was more determined to make his mother proud than his father; that much was definitely clear.

They fall silent, Cas' head turned up to the sky as well, mimicking Dean as they both create patterns in the stars. Unsure of how much time passes, but they decide it can't be that long, seeing as the sky is still pitch black and no red or orange has started to taint the sky as the sun rises.

'Do you think we should've went to Dumbledore's funeral?' Cas questions after a moment. He knows what stars really are; big balls of gas up in space, but the thought occurred to him when he thought of his sister, Anna, turning to him when she was only ten-years-old and wondered if the stars were the souls of the people no longer with them.

She looked so proud of herself for having figured it out that he didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. He wonders if she still believes that, being four years older now; he hopes she does. The world needs kind hearted, creative and loving people like her. Especially with dicks like Death Eaters running about spreading hatred and prejudice.

'No.' Dean replies. 'He was an awesome wizard, but we didn't know him. Funerals are… there's some about that final farewell that's special. If random people that didn't really know him wanted to say goodbye, they can visit his grave. The funeral should be reserved for family and exceptionally close friends, not just random students at Hogwarts that admired him.'

He had thought about going, though, just to say goodbye to a great and brilliant wizard and headmaster, but he knew it wouldn't be right. He's never even talked to the Headmaster, well, there was once when he got into serious trouble for sending a Slytherin Seventh Year dickbag called Alastair to the Hospital Wing. Dean was in Fifth Year at the time and Sam had just came up for his first year and the fucker thought it would be fun to pull a prank on Sam, one that led to Sam breaking his arm. Needless to say, Dean saw red and even though it got him two months detention, he never said sorry for it; never took it back.

But Dean didn't think that one little conversation was enough to warrant him an invite to his funeral.

'Do we even know how they got in? Has anyone figured that out, yet?' Cas asks as he balances his now empty bottle on the edge of the roof to get it out of his way and stop it being a bother.

'Don't think so. Death Eaters in Hogwarts, I still can't get over it.' Dean mumbles as he sits his bottle beside Cas', resisting the temptation to tip them both over and send them crashing to the ground.

He and Cas were locked in the Room of Requirements - their favourite place to be, apparently, seeing as no-one else could find them and they enjoyed spending the majority of their time together, without anyone else interrupting them from their conversations - when the fighting broke out. Though, apparently, the only one to fight was Harry, which didn't surprise them.

Dean's was annoyed that he missed it; that he couldn't help but after Cas declared that there was nothing to help with, he started to forget about it. Any guilt or irritation that he had started to ebb with Cas' words, but that's just the way Cas was. He knew exactly what to say to calm Dean down, and it worked both ways. Not to mention, he knew exactly what to say to wind Dean up, as well.

'Are you scared, about what's going to happen with Voldemort and his followers?' Cas ventures after a few more minutes of silence and his voice wavers over his name, but he still says it. He used to call him "You-Know-Who" but then he joined Dumbledore's Army and listened to Harry say it so much that he realised there was nothing wrong with the name.

_Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself, _Harry had said, and apparently Dumbledore had said that to him and after that, Cas started using his name. He wasn't going to be scared of him. Not anymore.

Dean doesn't really know how to answer that at first, because he's not exactly scared. Well, he is, but in ways different to what Cas is meaning. He's not afraid of Voldemort attacking him; he's afraid of Voldemort or his followers attacking and hurting Sam, or Cas, or even Jo and Charlie and Ash. He can't stand the fact of them getting to his family. But he's not scared for his own safety.

'Not in the way you think.' Dean answers, hoping that Cas understands his words and doesn't have to actually say them. He knows how pissed off Cas gets when he says that Sam or Cas himself are more important than Dean. He's actually shoved Dean up against the wall and threatened to beat the living shit out of Dean if he said something as stupid again; that was when Dean was saying he'd give his own life to save Sam's or Cas'.

That's how the whole "don't piss off the nerdy Hufflepuff" started. Any time someone teases Cas about something, whether it's just friendly joshing between Dean's friend and Cas, or whether it's actual animosity from Slytherins, it's the first words from Dean's mouth now.

He doesn't admit it, often objects to and genuinely looks offended at the very idea, but the look in Cas' eyes that time scared him. Made him quiver and flinch when he readjusted his hold on Dean's collar as if he was freeing his hand so he _could _punch Dean in the face like he said he would.

He turns to see Cas raise an eyebrow at him in question, and he sighs because Cas is going to be the awkward and annoying bastard that he is and make Dean explain this.

'I worry about Sammy or you, or any of my friends getting hurt or killed. _That's_ what I'm afraid of, Cas.'

Cas says nothing for a moment, studies him with those bright blue eyes of his for a minute or two and Dean wants to squirm, wants to move away from his gaze because this is never fun; being studied by those azure eyes that Dean thinks can see into his actual _soul_.

'You said "Sammy and you" but then other friends.' Cas murmurs softly, tearing his gaze away from Dean's face to look back up to the sky once again.

He still stands by his decision that the stars and their constellations are just like the freckles drawn upon Dean's face. They're both distracting, beautiful, worthy of art and scarce to be counted, and Cas has definitely tried to do the latter, both with the stars and the freckles scattered across Dean's cheeks and nose and even on his forehead.

''Course I did, Cas, you're my family.' Dean declares, tearing his eyes away from the stars that he was looking at as well, before turning his gaze onto Cas. There's extra fondness in his eyes, probably more than there should be when he's looking at his best friend, but he can't help it. There's so much he needs to thank Cas for; dulling the the voice in his head that says he's not good enough, making him feel good and worthy and he always looks at him like he's the greatest and most purest thing he's ever seen.

The stare is always intense; he's always blunt and brutally - beautifully - honest.

But there's no denying that Cas is his family; Cas is special, and Cas is getting closer and closer to Dean…

Dean doesn't move as Cas leans in closer to him, not because he's frozen by fear or worry, but mainly because he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know exactly what Cas is going to do - after all, this could go two ways - so he decides to stay perfectly still.

That is, until he realises, that he's leaning in towards Cas as well. It's just a slow inclination, drawn towards him almost like a moth to a flame. His eyes flicker briefly down to Cas' plump lips, and it definitely wouldn't be the first time he's done that. It's embarrassing to admit that, but every single time that Cas talks Dean gets distracted by his lips; it's just a fact.

Cas' lips briefly press against Dean's, there's hardly any pressure, those plump lips just softly brush over Dean's before they pull back ever-so-slightly. It's almost as if he's testing Dean, waiting to see if he'll get up and run away, tell Cas that he hates him now and that he doesn't want to talk to him ever again.

But Dean doesn't do that. Cas' breath is fanning over his lipsthat are dry all of a sudden, and his first reaction is to swipe over them with his tongue, wetting them. There's two things that come from that, his tongue lightly grazes Cas' lips and it draws Cas' attention to Dean's lips once more.

Instinct seems to kick in for both of them, and they're unsure of who leans forward first, whether Cas leans into Dean more or if Dean leans into Cas, but before they know it, their lips are meeting once more. Hesitant and gentle at first, simply resting against the other's lips for the briefest of moments, before they start to move.

They pull back to get into a better position, lips insistently pressing against each other and Cas' hand comes up and wraps around Dean's neck, a gentle pressure on the back of his neck that seems to jolt something in Dean. Cas' fingernails brush through the fine hairs at the base of Dean's neck, and they scratch the skin in a comforting way that draws an embarrassingly desperate moan from Dean's mouth.

But Cas just smiles against Dean's lips, pulling back from him to do it and watch how Dean's mouth parts as he hums at the feeling.

Cas' lips are against Dean's once more. The hesitance they had before is all but gone, Dean's hand comes up to cup Cas' cheek, his thumb brushing over Cas' cheekbone like he did the very first day this year.

He's unsure if Cas flicks his tongue over Dean's bottom lip first, or if he did it because Dean's already done it to him; showed him that it's okay. But a thrill shoots through Dean's body at the feeling nonetheless and sighs when Cas does it again.

That's when he parts his mouth, letting Cas' tongue sweep into his mouth, and the hand on the back of his neck curls into his hair almost painfully, but Dean finds he doesn't care. There's a shiver running through his whole body, right down to his toes and his fingertips, but it mostly settles in his chest, his core. It's a nice, warm thrumming feeling that sets him on fire.

There's tongue and sometimes teeth, but there's still just a tiny hint of hesitance in the back of both of them, because it's something so new and fragile for both of them.

Their noses bump together as Cas pushes himself closer to Dean and there's a moan that breaks free from someone's lips.

But the wake up call; the harsh thrust back into reality is when Cas' free hand reaches for his tie, whether to pull Dean closer or to loosen it entirely, Dean will never find out as he jolts back from him. His lips wrench away from Cas', a soft gasp breaking free from his lips as they separate from Cas' with a soft pop.

Cas opens his eyes, even though he's not entirely sure when he closed them, and he studies Dean, and when he notices the panic in his best friends eyes, his heart drop. His hand drops from his tie but the one on the back of his neck stays.

It was once a comforting, almost pleasurable feeling, but now it just feels like a deadweight, grounding him and making it almost impossible for him to pull away without pushing Cas away.

'Dean?' Cas whispers, his fingers combing through the fine hair at the base of Dean's neck once again, but instead of making him sigh, making him relax, making him _purr_, he stiffens. His words break Dean out of whatever thoughts he was having and he reaches up to take Cas' hand from the back of his neck.

He thinks about entwining his fingers with Cas', staying with him and telling him why he stopped, but instead he doesn't. He can't. Not yet; not now.

Cas almost sighs in relief with the act, but then Dean drops his hand into his lap and his eyes shoot up to look in Dean's eyes.

'Dean?' He tries again and his breath creates a cloud of mist and when did it get so cold? However, that's the least of his concerns, even as he tugs his jacket closer around his body. Of course he had no idea it was this cold; Dean was just so _warm _beneath his fingertips.

Dean shakes his head just once before he stands and Cas thinks about scrambling up as well, but decides against it, finds he can't find the strength to stand up and confront Dean. He's done that enough, fought hard enough to stay in people's lives and they always give up on him eventually. He's never strong enough or powerful enough or useful enough to warren friendship.

'I gotta go, Cas.' Dean whispers and if Cas was waiting for it, for the excuse, he wouldn't have heard him.

Cas swallows hard and tries to catch Dean's hand, managing to entwine his fingers through Dean's for a brief moment and Dean freezes, because the warmth is enough to make him want to stay; want to explain everything - why he _needs _to leave right now, otherwise he'll do something stupid.

'Dean, wait. Please?' Cas pleads and he feels relief when Dean's fingers squeeze around Cas', holding on so tight that his fingers start to hurt, but then the feeling is away and Dean's tugging his hand from Cas', which falls limply into his lap, the thud hurting Cas' thigh but he doesn't care.

'I'm sorry, Cas.' Dean whispers once more before he starts walking and doesn't stop; doesn't look back.

'Dean!' Cas shouts but even that doesn't stop Dean from walking away from him.

His body disappears from the roof completely as he goes back into the castle, leaving Cas on the roof, by himself, with two empty bottles of beer standing side by side.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Dean doesn't get to sleep that night, his mind replaying the kiss over and over again, and on several occasions, he finds his fingertips tracing his lips and he pulls his hand away sharply, only to find them pressing against his lips once again.

So, when he's making his way down to the boats for his last journey back over the lake, to get the Hogwarts Express, he feels like going to Cas and apologising to him.

When he gets to the boats, he finds Ash, Jo and Charlie standing waiting for him, but there's no sign of Cas, and he can't help the frown that pulls at his face.

He doesn't ask the others where he is, because he sees him the second he stops in front of them. He's already in a boat. On the lake. Making his way to the train station in Hogsmeade. He's in a boat with Balthazar and one or two other Hufflepuffs, and a second later, Dean also realises the other is Lisa, his ex-girlfriend.

He doesn't seem to care about the last fact; more concerned about the fact that Cas has just left him. He was so worried about saying goodbye to his friend, worrying that he'd give Cas a hug and never let go, too afraid to do so. He was so worried about crying in front of Cas once again, because he'd have to say that horrible word of "goodbye" to him and he wouldn't have a clue when he was going to see him again.

He was so worried about saying goodbye to Cas and now he isn't even getting a goodbye at all.

'Oh.' He mutters, not giving a fuck about Jo and Ash and Charlie's gazes; those pitying, confused gazes that his friends wear, before he shoves his hands into his pockets and boards the first empty boat that he sees.

After that, he doesn't remember the others boarding; doesn't remember getting off the boat and into the train.

But he does remember the fact that Cas has left him without a goodbye.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

The train stops and Dean takes a deep breath as he stands from his seat and makes his way off after a brief goodbye to Jo and Ash because he stays with them now, and a long hug with Charlie, but even that isn't as long as he thought it would be, because he's already agreed to go out with Charlie and be her "handmaiden" once more. So, he knows he'll see her again sometime soon.

He leaves the train and scans the room for Sammy, but he can't see him anywhere, and once again, he doesn't seem to care because he lives with Sammy, and he's not exactly going to miss him for any period of time. He'll have the entire car ride home, as well as the night and the next night and he's going to be with Sam and Jo and Ash and probably even Charlie for the majority of the Summer Holidays.

But Cas… Cas is gone and he didn't even get to say goodbye to him, and he wants to see Cas again and now he's not even going to get that.

He starts scanning the room once again, but this time, instead of looking for Sam, he looks for the head of dark, messy hair. But he can't see it; can't find him.

He's gone.

Dean pulls his bag further up his shoulder before he picks up his trunk and decides to wait on his brother in the other train station, the Muggle one, with Bobby and Ellen and the others who won't ask him questions about Cas and will stop him from being disappointed, and silence the hurt and pain until he gets home and to his own room. Where he will either smash things or cry into his pillows; probably both.

He waits until he can run through the wall and then as soon as he spots Bobby and Ellen, he walks over to them, noting that Sam and the others are already through, and did he seriously take that long looking for Castiel?

He shakes his head and plasters a fake smile onto his lips as he makes his way over to his broken family.

'Finally! What were you doing, boy?' Bobby questions, but Dean doesn't answer and Bobby says nothing in reply, almost as if he wasn't expecting an answer. 'Right, c'mon everyone!'

And Dean's about to say "okay" and head out to the car to drive back to Bobby's; drive back to his home. But that's when he sees him.

The head of black, messy hair that he spent longer than he thought looking for.

'Uh, hang on a minute, guys,' Dean mutters as he slides the bag off his shoulder and sets it to the floor. 'I'll be back in a minute.'

He doesn't wait for their reply and starts to make his way over to Cas, because okay, the kiss freaked him out and it's going to continue to freak him out, but he needs to say goodbye to his friend; a _real _goodbye, something worthy of what their friendship is… was… whatever.

'Hey, Cas.' He calls the second he is close enough to do so, and he doesn't miss the way his friend freezes before he turns to face Dean, and there are tears in eyes.

God, he's definitely going to cry. Both of them are. They haven't even started yet and this is where they are already.

'Leaving me alone on the roof in the cold wasn't enough?' Cas enquires, but even though his words are harsh, his tone is empty; broken. 'Need to come back for another round?'

His eyes aren't on Dean's face when he talks, and it isn't until he's finished that he raises his head from the ground and finds Dean's green eyes.

'I came to say I'm sorry, Cas.' Dean replies instantly, his hand finding its way onto Cas' shoulder and he's tempted to move his hand to the back of his neck, brush his fingers through the fine hair at the bottom of his neck, like Cas did to him last night, but he remembers that everyone is probably watching him right now, so he fights back the urge. That would probably be too hard to explain. Or deal with. 'And goodbye.'

He takes a deep breath, his other hand coming up of its own accord to cup Cas' cheek, his thumb running across his cheekbone and he doesn't care that his family is probably looking at him in shock as he continues, 'You were just going to walk away without saying goodbye to me?'

'You did it to me last night; I though that's what you wanted.' Cas whispers in return, trying his hardest not to lean into Dean's touch, because he knows it's just brief; knows this isn't going to last forever.

Dean bites his lips briefly and shakes his head, before he lets his hand cupping Cas' cheek drop back to his side.

'I _am _sorry, Cas.' Dean declares, his hand still on Cas' shoulder digging in almost painfully, but Cas doesn't say anything; doesn't tell him to loosen his grip because he'd take the pain any day; it's still Dean's touch after all. 'And I'll see you around.'

He finally tears his hand away from Cas' shoulder and lets it drop to his side once more like a deadweight, his palms and fingertips still burning; itching with the urge to touch Cas again.

'Yeah.' Cas mutters softly. 'I'll see you around.'

Dean gives Cas a smile before he turns on his heel, shoving his hands into his pockets as he heads back over to his family, not looking back to the boy with tears in his bright blue eyes; not looking back at Cas because he's got tears in his eyes too.

Not looking back because he knows his words are nothing but lies.

And he takes solace in the knowledge that Cas knows it is a lie too.

Yeah. He knew he wasn't going to like today, and he seriously wished it didn't come, because now he's lost Cas, something he feared the second he got Cas back in his life again.

'What's wrong?' Sam questions as they fall into step next to each other, a little bit away from the others, almost as if they knew they were going to have this conversation.

Dean sighs, shakes his head as he turns to look over his shoulder at the spot where Cas had once stood. He turns back to the front again, turning to shake his head at Sammy again.

'I should've stayed on the roof.'

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><p><em><strong>please review!<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	10. Chapter X: Should Have Dug Your Claws In

_**Here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy! It's shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :D**_

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><p><strong>Chapter X: Should Have Dug Your Claws In.<strong>

Six months pass, but to Dean it's more like a year… maybe an eternity.

Everyone seems to know somethings wrong, and everyone seems to know not to ask him about it. Which is definitely weird, because for once, he wants someone to ask him about; he wants Sam to come into his room like he did before, listening to him rant and rave about Cas, about how he kissed him, and for Dean to omit that he kissed back, but Sam knows anyway, and then he rolls his eyes at Dean, tells him some words of wisdom whilst also calling him an idiot, then Dean feels inspired to fix it.

That's what he wants.

He wants to fix it but he doesn't know how. He's already told Cas he'll "see him around", but what the hell? That's the stupid crap you say after a one-night stand or to a friendship that run its course, like Dean did with his old Muggle friend Aaron.

But this was _Cas_. Castiel Novak, his geeky, nerdy Hufflepuff friend who wears this stupid tan trench coat, and has bright blue eyes, and plump lips… and God, to the lips again!

He shakes his head.

He just needs to make his mind up; he's either going to forget about Cas completely or pick up his parchment and quill and send a letter to him. He can't keep hovering in between like this, it's causing him nothing but pain and he just _needs_ to be one or the other; no more of this one foot in his life and one foot out his life shit. He needs to make a decision.

'I don't wanna.' He mutters dejectedly but then someone's voice is right beside him, and he jumps, hitting his head off the hood of the car he was currently leaning over.

'Jesus fuck, Bobby! Could've gave me some warning!' He hisses as he straightens and turns to look at Bobby, his hand rubbing the sore spot on the top of his head.

'You shouldn't have been spacing then.' Bobby replies, before he hands him a set of keys. 'It's a Ford Focus, there's a rumbling noise in its engine and I need you to take a look at it, then change the two tires on the Toyota.'

Dean nods his head, closing his hands around the keys before tucking them into his pocket. 'I'll check it over when I finish with this one.'

Bobby nods his head, looking at him for a moment and Dean thinks he's finally going to have someone ask him what's been wrong with him for the past six months, but then Bobby just clears his throat, nods his head and walks away from him, leaving him alone with the car and a broken BMW.

'So much for being an Auror.' Dean mutters as he turns back to the car.

He should've known he was never going to get that job; it's nothing to do with his grades, which was his biggest worries if he was honest, and he felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders when he got the owl with his NEWT results. Three Outstandings and two Exceed Expectations. He knew that was more than enough to be accepted into the Auror Training, and even though it was a hard thing to get into, he had McGonagall on his side, and his mother's history as well.

But no, that had nothing to do with why he wasn't currently doing his training.

The Death Eaters have taken over the Ministry of Magic. Fudge had resigned as Minister of Magic, got replaced by Rufus Scrimegeour and then he was killed and Voldemort made his move.

And Dean was out of any chance of every becoming an Auror… well, until Voldemort and his followers were stopped, but then he'd probably be too old to be trained in their eyes or something. The Ministry has fallen, and there is no way in hell they're going to accept people for Auror training; Aurors that were meant to catch the people that were now in charge.

At least he's still got his job at his Uncle Bobby's garage. He'll probably just stay there until Bobby dies and then take over for him. He'll just stop using magic altogether and live life as a Muggle.

Then again, cars were made to be fixed by hands and hard work. He knows magic can fix a lot, could probably find a spell or two that would fix any problem with a car, and if he was really clever, could probably create some, but he wouldn't trust it. Magic wasn't meant to be used on Muggle stuff; cars, computers, all those kind of things, those were meant to be pulled apart, fixed and then put back together again.

Maybe that's why he loves working with the cars so much; why not being in Auror training doesn't bring him down as much as he thought it would, because there's something _good _about taking something that's broken, taking it apart and almost making it worse, before finding what's wrong, finding a way to fix it and then putting it back together, so it's new and working again.

Cars are a constant like that. Something goes wrong, have a look about, find the problem, fix it. You can't do that with everything; can't do it with other people or relationships. You can't just replace the broken and dead part with a new one so it's back to working order.

Dean's good at fixing cars, hell, it's the one and only thing he can say with confidence that he can do, and that he can do it fucking brilliantly.

Dean's rubbish at fixing people and relationships, though, and right now, it's the one thing he wishes he could do. People are out there wishing dead ones alive; wishing the war to be over, and here's Dean wishing he can the strength and courage to pick up the phone or write a letter.

God, he's a failure.

And it doesn't help that he still hasn't heard anything from Sam. Not one single letter and he's honestly tempted to actually storm into Hogwarts, head to the Ravenclaw Common Room and demand that the gangly teenager tell him why the hell he hasn't sent his brother a letter.

But then he remembers how hard things must be for him, dealing with being at school whilst all this shit is going on in the "real" world. He knows Dean's affected by it, even though he can do nothing about it. Fighting isn't going to win this time around. Well, the going out and trying to catch and hurt every single Death Eater that walks the earth kind of fighting. This calls for biding his time, being discreet and doing small acts of defiance.

Something that he's still learning to do. He's much more of "let me at them, I'll show them what I've got" type of fighter. Not the "I'm going to do a bunch of really small things that'll lead to a big thing at some point" type of fighter, like he needs to be.

Right now, his only solace is the fact that Sammy is going to be home in two hours. He finally gets a chance to demand what the hell is wrong with him, why he isn't even bothering to write to his brother and put his mind at ease.

And maybe when Sam gets back, and Dean's gave him into trouble for being an insensitive jerk and just letting Dean worry like that, Sam will see that he's still not feelingbetter and ask him what's wrong before telling him what to do about it.

And god, when did his life get so low that he needs advice from his younger brother? He _knows_ what to do about it, pick up the fucking phone and call Cas. But can Dean do that? No! Because Dean is a stupid jerk… and it's not like he hasn't tried.

Dean's had the pen in his hand several times; had the phone in his grasp more than that. But then that kiss comes back into his mind; how Cas had scratched at the back of his neck, how Dean had moaned and pulled him closer, how he'd traced his thumb of Cas' cheekbone, which was finally free of its cut and scar.

The image sears into his mind, and half the time, he can still _feel _it. Can still feel Cas' nails rake through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, can still feel the pressure of his lips against his own, the wetness of his tongue on his lower lip.

That's when the phone is usually slammed back onto the receiver or the pen is thrown across the room.

Shame always burns on his cheeks when Bobby walks in and he finds himself thinking about it; lust always settles deep in his core when he's by himself, but shame takes over that just as quick. His whole mind screams at him, and it can never fucking settle on what it wants to say.

_Right! Wrong! _

No matter how hard he fucking tries, he's always torn between the lifelong debate of what's right in Dean Winchester's mind and what's wrong.

Then again, as Sam has so often pointed out, Dean doesn't exactly have the best thoughts on what's right and what's wrong. Apparently, he screws it up the majority of them time.

Maybe it's not a good idea Sam ask him what's wrong, because when Sam asks him what's wrong, he's going to give him that stare - those stupid puppy dog, doe eyes - that make Dean tell him everything, even the kiss and how he liked it but hated it but loved it and then Sam's just going to think it's as simple as running to Cas' door and saying he's sorry and they'll live happily ever after.

If Cas has any sense, he'll slam the door in Dean's face, because Dean's hurt him and let him down more times than he can fucking count; Cas… kind, gentle Cas has always tried to be there for Dean, and Dean gives him nothing in return.

So, no, Sam shouldn't and isn't going to ask him what's wrong, because at the end of the day, Dean's just going to get Cas' hopes up to dash them again, and he can't do that. Not again.

His friend deserves to be happy, and he, Dean Winchester, will just make him miserable and hurt him again.

And he can't let himself hurt Cas again. Definitely not.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'So, did you just forget that there's such a thing as post? Like? It just escaped your mind, I take it?' Dean questions as he drives his brother back from the train station, heading to Bobby's again. He tries not to bring up the fact that Sam had said Jess was going to be coming over on Boxing Day for dinner, because he's torn between wanting to tease Sam for finally doing something about his (not) crush on Jess, but also feeling a little bit saddened that they won't be doing their usual Boxing Day tradition.

It's not much, a day by themselves, with all the sweets they got from Christmas and they just marathon the same movies; Star Wars being the main one that Dean always makes them watch.

But he guesses that Jess could join in on that too, but, he's losing his brother and he knows it.

'I'm sorry, Dean.' Sam mutters, looking over to gaze at the side of his brother's face, before adding, 'I'll explain when we get back.'

Dean quirks an eyebrow, 'How about you explain now? I've been worried _sick_, Sammy!'

And goodness, there he sounds like an overprotective parent again.

'Dean, I don't want you to crash the car.'

'You're not making me feel any better, Sammy! Why the hell would I crash the car? What could possibly be _that _bad, that I would _crash _my baby?' Dean chuckles, but only because he feels like he may pull the car over and start ranting and raving if he doesn't.

He can't stand where this is going. He knows it's going nowhere good, and yet here he is, still pushing Sam to tell him what's happened; what's stopped him from writing to him all this time he's been at Hogwarts and Dean's been stuck fixing broken cars.

'The Ministry isn't the only thing the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who's taken over,' Sam starts and Dean's jaw clenches because he hates that they have to go back to call him "You-Know-Who" or "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named", because this is just making them seem like they're afraid of him. Fuck the stupid curse on his stupid fucking name. 'They've taken over Hogwarts.'

'_What_?!' Dean exclaims and his head whips around to face Sammy, who in turn shouts at Dean, 'The road, Dean!', and Dean seems to remember that shit, yeah, he's driving and turns his head back to the front. He swerves back onto the correct side of the road and lets out a shaky sigh, even when the car drives by him with a blare of its horn.

'What?' He asks much more calmly. Well, at least he keeps his eyes on the road, but Sam can see his hands clench around the Impala's steering while, his knuckles turning white; can see his jaw clench impossibly tight that a muscle twitches.

'They took over Hogwarts, and because they have the _Daily Prophet _at their disposal, they kept it out of the papers. I didn't want to risk sending you a letter telling you, just incase they searched the post and found it. I didn't want them hurting you, Dean.' Sam explains before he sighs and shakes his head, turning his gaze back out onto the road in front of them. 'It's pathetic there, now. We're not being taught _Defence Against _the Dark Arts, we're just being taught "Dark Arts". It's horrible.'

Dean hums because he can't think of anything else to say, but thankfully, he doesn't need to, because Sam just keeps talking and he finds himself quickly retracting that "thank god" because he's just continuously listing how bad things have gotten in Hogwarts, and he doesn't really want to hear that.

'And Muggle Studies is just them teaching how _bad _Muggles are and all this, and you should see how they treat the Muggle-borns! I'm actually going to be surprised if they come back! I mean, between the Muggle-borns and First Years… it's horrible, Dean!'

'Wait, what exactly are they doing to the Muggle-borns and First Years?' He enquires and he tries not to think about how Cas is also a Muggle-born and they could've been doing whatever it is they're doing to him as well.

'Well, like I said, they're just teaching Dark Arts now, and they're teaching people how to _use _Unforgivables instead of how horrible and wrong they are, and they're using the First Years and Muggle-borns as practice dummies, Dean! They're lining them up and making people cast _Crucio _and _Imperio _on them! Thankfully, they've never made anyone use the Killing Curse, yet.'

Dean lets out a shaky breath, and when Sam goes to open his mouth to tell him even more information, he shakes his head, 'No, no more, Sam.'

Sam doesn't say anything, and he must see the terror and panic in Dean's eyes for he doesn't even protest the fact that Dean's just running and hiding from the problems they are facing.

They don't talk about it anymore, don't talk about anything actually, as they continue the short drive back to Bobby's, but when Dean parks the Impala, and gets out of it and falls into step with Sam, he clears his throat and decides to say what he's been thinking about since he heard the news.

'Listen, Sammy, I don't think you should -'

He doesn't even get to finish.

'No! I'm going back, Dean! You're not going to stop me! Didn't you _hear_ what I said?'

'Yeah! I heard you say Death Eaters had taken over Hogwarts and we're torturing students! And incase you forgot, _you _are a student!' Dean explodes and he doesn't care that everyone has now left the house and are currently watching them, because he's lost too much. Mum. Dad. Cas. And he can't bear the thought of losing Sam as well.

'Exactly, Dean! They're torturing students! And you expect me to bail out on everyone! I was part of Dumbledore's Army as well, Dean. I _know _what Harry taught us and I can pass that on to others! I can teach them how to protect themselves; I can comfort those Muggle-borns and First Years and make them feel better. I can lookafter and save people if I go back, Dean!' Sam stops for a beat, taking a deep breath to calm himself and Dean follows his examples. Too many emotions are running high right now. 'If I stay here, Dean, if I _don't _go back, all of those First Years, their screams and their pain, that will be on me. And I can't have that.'

He shakes his head.

'Do not make me do it, Dean. Do not.' He states firmly before he turns on his heel and storms into the rackety house, leaving Dean standing beside the Impala by himself, his heart falling to his stomach as he realises just how stupid and selfish he's being.

He clears his throat when he realises that Bobby, Jo and Ellen are still staring at him, raised eyebrows and curious expressions and he makes his way into the house as well, after waving his hand at them, telling him that he can't inform them of what's happening just yet, he needs to talk to Sammy, apologise.

They seem to understand, for they don't say anything to him as he makes his way pass them in order to get into the house.

He makes his way straight to Sam's bedroom and even though he knows he doesn't have to, he gives the door a knock and waits until Sam tells him to come in before he even thinks about opening the door.

Sam looks like he's ready to apologise to Dean the second he sees him, and in order to stop him, because Dean needs to apologise, not be apologised to, Dean holds up his finger and says, 'No, wait a minute, Sammy.'

He clears his throat and it isn't until Sam sits down on his bed that Dean continues, shutting the door behind him and then moving over to lean on Sam's desk. He thinks about sitting on the bed next to him, but that could lead to Sam getting too cuddly - for a gangly, hormonal teenager, he surely is a clingy koala bear most of the time - and Dean's not sure he's up for that right now.

'I'm sorry, Sam. I don't blame you for wanting to go back, after all, that's what I'd fight to do. I'm actually a little tempted to go back right now, actually, but… I just… we've lost Mum and Dad's just bailed on us without a word, and… and…' _and I've lost Cas_, but he can't say that, not to his brother, because he'll want to know what's happened with Cas, and he has to be honest, saying that does make it sound like Cas is dead (which, for all Dean knows, could actually be true, seeing as he hasn't heard a word about him in six months, but for once, Dean's trying to be optimistic) and when Dean says "no", he'll want to know what he means, and Dean can't say anything. Not now. Probably not ever. 'I just didn't want to lose you too.' He finishes meekly.

Sam studies him for a moment and Dean's sincerely worried that there's a neon sign over his head saying I'M LYING, but after a beat or two, Sam finally clears his throat and tears his gaze off of Dean.

'I know, Dean. But you won't lose me. I know how to look after myself; I had the best teaching me.'

'Yeah, Harry is good.'

'Not Harry, Dean!' Sam replies, rolling his eyes in exasperation before chuckling playfully. '_You_, you idiot! Sure, Harry taught me the spells and that, but it was _you _that taught me the importance of wanting to help and look after yourself. So, yeah, I definitely learnt from the best.'

And then he's staring at Dean again and all he can do is awkwardly cough and reach up to rub the back of his neck, but his mind immediately flashes to another hand running through the hair at the back of his neck, and then warm, soft lips on his and he coughs again, bolting upright as his face heats up.

'You've been spending too much time with Jess, Sam, you're starting to turn into a girl.' Dean smirks, trying to hide his obvious fuck up because he needs to stop thinking about that kiss; especially when he's in his family's presence.

Moment gone, all Sam can do is roll his eyes and mutter, 'Shut up, jerk.'

Dean, recovered from the memory of Cas' short fingers scratching his neck, laughs and reaches out to ruffle Sam's still long brown hair. He's torn between telling Sam to cut it because it _is _getting a little longer than Dean can stand, but it's Sam's hair and Dad always nagged at him to cut it, and Dean's not John; going to do everything in his power not to turn into him.

Dean smirks as Sam stands and pushes into him as he walks by him, heading to the kitchen and just before he's made it out of his bedroom door, Dean calls, 'Bitch.'

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><p><em><strong>Please review!<strong>_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	11. Chapter XI: I Fight for You

_**I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT HAS TAKEN ME TO UPDATE! REALLY! I AM! So, here's the chapter now, and I seriously hope you enjoy it! :D**_

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><p><strong>Chapter XI: I Fight for You.<strong>

By the time Sam is going back to Hogwarts, where he'll stay until the Eater Holidays, which Sam has assured Dean he'll be home for, stating that he'll need a break from the school by then, Dean's firmly decided that Sam going back is definitely a good thing, and that trying to get in contact with Cas is definitely a bad thing.

The Boxing Day dinner was amazing in Dean's mind, and he still has no idea what he was fretting over; Jess is _awesome _and he knew that. He was just overreacting a little. But his brother couldn't stop smiling and laughing, and Dean didn't find himself thinking about how he's going to lose his brother to Jess, because the way Jess joked with Dean made him certain that she thought family was just as important as the Winchesters did.

Sam and Dean don't say anything about it, but there's definitely an unspoken agreement that this year's Christmas, for all the burnt food because Ellen entrusted the turkey to Bobby, who in turn forgot all about it, and that the only upside was the pie that Dean made himself, was definitely better than last years.

They know that now Dad is gone, the days of Christmases in sleazy and disgusting motels are long gone. They're always going to have a home to celebrate it in, whether it's at Bobby's or the day they get their own house, and they're always going to have each other to celebrate it with, which seems to settle something in both Sam and Dean; something they didn't even realise had been stirring.

So, with that realisation, he's more than happy to drive Sam back to the train station, more than happy to walk him to the train and wave goodbye to him as the scarlet train slowly pulls away, cloaking the platform is smoke and shielding the train from Dean's view, and by the time it clears, the train is gone.

As with Cas, he's definitely not going to try and contact him. Dean's been so busy fixing cars for Bobby; not using magic, not even paying that much attention to the magical world, seeing as all he does know is fix cars and sometimes cooks for the others, and he doesn't even read the _Daily Prophet _anymore, having cancelled his subscription the second he heard the Death Eaters took it over.

Sam is quick to catch him up to date, however, and he explains to Dean that not just are they using the Muggle-borns as testing subjects, they are also interrogating them, asking them how they got their magic and if they cannot prove they have a witch or a wizard _somewhere _in their family tree, they're getting thrown in Azkaban.

And that's what sealed Dean's thoughts. He can't try to get in contact with Cas, because he knows Cas, and even though he's hurt him, if Dean had to turn around and say he wanted to meet Cas, he'd come, no matter what. He'd come out of hiding just to see what Dean had to say and he's not about to put Cas in danger; he's done enough to him already. He knows he needs to do this for Cas.

He also knows it'll make Dean look like he doesn't care about him, but it's the exact opposite, he needs to make sure that Cas doesn't get caught and interrogated by the Ministry and Death Eaters and then thrown in Azkaban when he can't produce a magical ancestor.

He can't hurt him again.

Dean shakes his head and picks up the wrench from the toolbox lying beside him. He needs to just focus on fixing up this car. This is something he knows how to do; there's no second guessing when it comes to fixing a car, because it's second nature to him now. He doesn't need to think anything through, not really, he doesn't need to have sleepless nights trying to figure out what the best decision is.

Cars are simple, and he's got plenty of them sitting around, just waiting to be fixed. He's got a Ford with a weird sound coming from its engine, he's got a Dodge who's windows are stuck and won't budge, and he's got his Chevy Impala to fix up.

He's ashamed to look at her, every time he walks by the once pristine black form of his baby, and sees the dents he put in there; sees the tarp that cover the windows he shattered in a fit of rage.

Baby really should be his priority, and he wants her to take priority, but every _single time _he goes near her with a wrench or something that's heavy and metal in his hand, he gets the strongest urge to carve more dents into her body.

That's normally when he drops it, letting it clatter and clang as it hits the ground, before he turns and runs back to the workshop where the other cars are. He doesn't get the urge to destroy any of them more than they are already. He just gets the urge to fix them.

Maybe it says something about him; maybe it's trying to get him to realise that the person he needs to fix is himself, and the only thing stopping him is himself.

But he usually scoffs when that thought comes into his mind, and he reminds himself that he's not in a chick-flick; he doesn't overanalyse things, and he doesn't have a huge moment of revelation before everything slots itself into place.

He's in the real world, the same damn thing he told himself he needed to prepare for by practising Defensive spells.

Yeah right. He didn't need to know how to protect himself from Dark Magic… he needed to know how to protect himself from his worst enemy; he needed to know how to protect himself from himself.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

He didn't really expect to get a letter from Sam. Hell, he didn't think he'd hear a single peep from his younger brother, let alone anyone, so maybe that's why it surprises him when he wakes up one morning and finds an owl perched on the ledge outside his bedroom window.

Dean grabs his wand on instinct; sure, it's just a defenceless owl, but who knows who could have followed it. He just needs to be sure; having the piece of his wood in his hand once again makes him feel whole once more, he's missed feeling the weight in his hand. It's like a piece of his arm had been hacked off, but now it was complete once more.

He slides the window open, raising his wand slightly when it hops inside and extends his leg towards him, revealing a small piece of parchment tied to its leg. Dean frowns but reaches out and unties it, letting out a shaky breath when the owl hoots and turns and flies away, meaning that it wasn't waiting for a reply or anything, and clearly wasn't waiting for someone to follow it.

Dean sets his wand down, deciding that there is no threat at all, and unfurls the piece of parchment in order to read the scrawl on the piece of parchment.

_Dear Mr. Winchester,_

_We have tried to conduct an investigation into one _**Castiel Novak**_, born _**18****th**** September 1978**, _but we have been unable to locate him. It has come to our attention that you were the last Wizard to see the Muggle-born. It is vital that we carry out this investigation, if we wish to get to the bottom of these people who steal Magic. _

_If you could come to the Ministry of Magic, or send an owl back to me personally, we would be entirely grateful. _

_Please do not ignore this message, or their will be consequences. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Madam Undersecretary, Dolores Jane Umbridge. _

Dean frowns at the letter in his hand, his eyes darting between the words "Castiel Novak" and "Dolores Jane Umbridge", trying to understand what exactly is happening.

'The old boot,' he hisses, before he crumples the letter up, smashing it between his hands until it's creased and torn. He holds it in his hands, squeezing it with all his might as he tries to fight the boiling anger inside him.

The old cow that made him rewrite his mother's death report, as well as those of his grandfather and grandmother that he didn't even get to meet, for detention is writing to him, and asking him to give up the location of Cas.

Who the hell does she think she is? In fact, who the hell does she think Dean is? Why the hell does she think that he'd give up Cas' location… if he knew where he was, that is. Which he doesn't, and now he knows why he doesn't, because shit like this happens. He's thankful that he didn't even bother writing or calling Cas, because what if they came in and arrested him, took him to trial and shoved Veritaserum down his throat? He'd spill it out, whether he wanted to or not, and then Cas would be caught and thrown in Azkaban, all because of him.

But now that he doesn't know? He can march up to that old toad and tell her he doesn't know, and no matter what torture she inflicts on him, he would still be telling the truth. He wouldn't run the risk of endangering Cas.

'Who was the owl from?' A voice asks from his door, and Dean's head shoots up to find Jo leaning against the frame, arms crossed over her chest and her brown eyes narrowed slightly.

'Madam Undersecretary Dolores Jane Umbridge,' Dean answers, letting the sarcasm seep into his voice without even trying to fight. 'She's telling me to write back and let them know where Cas is so they can investigate him.'

He scoffs, unclenching his hand from around the letter and spreading it out. There's a tonne of creases but it's still legible, so he hands it to Jo to let her read it.

She steps into his room when he extends the letter to her, and she carefully takes it from his grasp, reading over the cursive scrawl that is surprisingly not written in pink ink.

'"People who steal Magic"? Has she finally went cuckoo?' Jo retorts, a grin pulling at her plump lips as she hands the letter back to Dean. 'Do you know where he is anyways?'

Dean's smile from her previous comment falls off his face. He turns away from her, shaking his head softly before he does. He walks over to the fire in his room and after only a brief moment of hesitation, he throws the parchment into the flames, watching as it darkens and curls in on itself as it burns.

'What happened with you guys?' Jo questions after a moment, and Dean sighs and turns back to her.

He shrugs, hoping that Jo will just drop it and leave him alone, but he should've known that she wouldn't do that. This is Jo he's talking about; the determined, pain-in-the-ass sister that he never really wanted, but loved nonetheless.

'Yeah, I'm not falling for that. You may be able to trick Sam with the whole "we drifted apart" shit, but not me. I saw the way you were with him. I know how determined you were to have him in your life, so man up and tell me what happened, otherwise I'm going to tell my mother you got a letter from the Ministry.'

Dean whips his head around to glare at her, his eyes narrowed as he studies her face.

'You aren't serious.'

'Oh, I am,' Jo grins as she crosses her arms back over her chest. 'I want to know what happened with you and Cas that caused him to take a different boat back across Lake on our last day of Hogwarts. I want to know why it's been so long and you still wince every single time his name comes up. I _want _to know Dean, and you are going to tell me, one way or another.'

Dean studies her for a few more minutes, unable to decide whether he can get away with just walking out the room, or shutting the door on her face, but then he remembers all those times that she's punched him and it's left the sorest bruise he's ever had.

Or those times that she's somehow managed to tackle him to the ground and keep him there, even though she was, what? 120 pounds… then again, she was 120 pounds of feisty determination. He's already established that in those conversations with Ash over who would win a fight between Angelina and Jo.

He sighs and moves over to sit on his bed again, his eyes flickering briefly to the letter that has nearly disappeared completely.

Jo takes a moment before she moves over and sits down beside him, bumping her shoulder into his with an encouraging grin on her plump lips.

'I'm your friend Dean, no matter what you tell me, I'm still going to be your friend; your sister.' She moves her hand so it's resting on Dean's knee, a comforting weight that seems to seep into Dean's bones and make it okay for him to finally get what's been eating away at him for so long off his chest.

'We kissed.' Dean says, before the rest of the words come out in a rush. 'On the night before we went home from Hogwarts on our last day, we were up on the roof and I don't know what happened, but we ended up kissing and… and…'

'And…?' Jo prompts, before a wide grin spreads onto her lips. 'You enjoyed it, didn't you? You _did_! I knew you fancied him! I bloody well knew it!'

'Will you shut it, Jo?' Dean snaps before he stands from his bed, storming over to the window where the owl had stood not that long ago. He runs a hand over her face as he feels tears sting his eyes. He is not going to fucking cry, that is just something he is not going to do!

'What do you expect? I kept telling Ash that you had something for Castiel, but he kept denying it. I'm just glad that I get to prove to Dr. Badass that I was right. Again.'

'Seriously? That's all you've got to say on the matter? I just told you that I _kissed_ Cas, and your first instinct is the fact you were _right_?' Dean snaps, turning around to face his sister once more. He has more words on the tip of his tongue, but they die the second his eyes meet hers. There's something in those brown orbs that make Dean's shoulders slump, for his head to hang low and for a stray tear to fall down his cheek, leaving a wet trail.

'What do you want me to say, Dean?' Jo says softly, as she moves forward and cups his cheek with tenderness. She wipes away the tear and its trail with her thumb, smiling softly when he leans into the touch. 'That you shouldn't because he's a _guy, _and "man must lie with woman"? You know the bible was written by snotty old dicks, and anyone that believes that are a bunch of pretentious bastards.'

She chuckles along with Dean, though both of their laughs are short lived, dying on their lips a second later.

'I know you Dean. This isn't the first time you've kissed a guy, but it's the first time you've reacted like this. What's so different about Cas? It's not the fact he's got a dick, I know that for a fact… so tell me Dean, and don't hide behind your bullshit. Your dad isn't here, you don't need to be that man anymore.'

Dean's bites his lower lip, chewing it with his front teeth, and it isn't until Jo softly slaps the side of his head does he release it with a startled yelp.

'What?'

'You're bleeding, you idiot,' Jo declares and it's then Dean tastes the distinct metallic tang on his tongue, and he grimaces. 'You didn't even notice, did you?'

Jo's grin widens a little when Dean shakes his head, and she moves her hand so it's resting on his shoulder instead of cupping his cheek, finding the gesture far too intimate for now. There was once or twice they thought about it; nearly once they went all the way, but they realised it just wouldn't be right. They were meant to be brother and sister. But they were both relieved when they found out the other felt the same; halfway through unbuttoning each other's shirt, with their lips still attached to each other, they collapsed into giggles and decided not to do anything like that again.

'I'm scared,' Dean admits after a minute of silence. His eyes are still cast downwards, and he doesn't raise them to meet Jo's, not even as she squeezes his shoulder; encouraging him to go on.

'Of what? What has the mighty Dean Winchester got to be scared of? Did you try to go further than kissing and couldn't get it up? Is that what it was? Cause that happens to a lot of people, Dean, in fact I hear it happens to one-in-three men!'

'Why am I even talking to you?' Dean groans as he shrugs off her hand and goes back to sit on his bed again. He buries his head in his hands, not even bothering to lift it when he feels the bed dip beside him.

''Cause I'm the only one that's offering to talk to you? I've seen the way you look whenever you think the conversation could steer towards why you and Cas don't talk anymore. Sure, you look scared shitless, but you look hopeful. As if all you need is someone telling you that you're fucking stupid will make you work it out.' Jo grins. 'Tell me.'

There's a pause. Dean takes a deep breath in through his nose, and when he lowers his hands away from his face he lets it out in a sharp, shaky exhale.

'I think he was the one that started the kiss, and he went to unfasten my tie or pull me closer or _something_, and I don't know, I seemed to remember who I was kissing.'

'Yeah, it was Castiel Novak, the guy you've been crushing on ever since you laid eyes on him that first day of Fifth Year. Why the hell did you stop?'

'Because he's my _best friend_,' Dean snaps, ignoring the voice in his head that snaps "he _was _your best friend; he's not anymore". He shakes his head softly, running his hands through his short, blond hair. 'What if we kissed and we got together and it didn't work out? I'd lose him, Jo, and I can't lose him.'

'But Dean-'

Dean scoffs, 'Yeah, I fucking know! I've already lost him and I didn't even have the chance to see if we could've worked. You don't have to point it out, Jo, I already fucking know!'

Jo's soft chuckle seeps in through his rant, and when he looks up, he finds her shaking her head, pale blonde locks falling over her shoulder with the movement.

'That wasn't really what I was going to say… though it _is _a fair point. No. What I was going to say was, why wouldn't you two work out? You said it yourself, you were best friends. Do you know how rare it is to fall in love with your best friend? You've built the trust already; you know each other's secrets, you've been through everything together already that the only difference would be you'd share a bed and fuck. What would be so wrong about that? Why would that change a thing? To me, it'd be better, not worse.'

And with those words, Jo pats Dean's knee once more before she stands from the bed, walking out the room with the advice to "think about it", before disappearing completely.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

He hums along to the song on the radio, finding it amazing that there's actually some decent music to listen to on the damn thing, instead of having to dig out his cassettes in order to have something good to work to.

There's something about this, humming along to classic rock as he fixes another car that makes him feel better. Sure, what would really make him feel better would having the war over, his brother home and Cas as his friend again - maybe even something more.

His talk with Jo definitely helped him realise just how fucking stupid he was for running away from Cas; leaving him on the roof without so much as an explanation _why _he needed to go. Maybe if he had stayed and talked it over, told Cas that he was just scared of losing him, then maybe he'd still have Cas in his life. Maybe he wouldn't be getting some stupid letter from the Ministry of Magic every week.

Those letters have grown from the soft, polite questioning tone to a more demanding tone, threatening imprisonment for interfering with an "official Ministry investigation". Dean still burns every single one of those letters when he gets them, watching them turn from white parchment to black crisp. He knows that one day, they're just going to lose their patience with sending him letters and they're going to send someone to arrest him; force him to London and to the Ministry itself and ask the questions they've been wanting an answer to.

But he's ready for them. He's been ready for them ever since Cas told him he was a Muggle-born and Dean realised his life would be in danger the second he stepped out of Hogwarts.

He wants to talk to his friend; wants to assure him that when it's all over, whether Voldemort wins or the "good" side wins, they're going to have a life together, whether they're just friends or something more, they're going to be in each other's lives, like they silently promised to do the first time the moment they became friends.

He needs to be patient, however, needs to realise that he can't just call Cas up, tell him that he fucked up big time and beg Cas to at least try and hear him out. That's his plan for when everything is over and the good guys have won.

It's a different story if it ends with the bad side winning, of course, because no doubt he will be dead. Cas will probably be dead too, but he has a feeling that even in death, he'd storm through all of Heaven, desperate to make Cas understand why he did what he did.

Happy ending or sad ending, Dean's determined to make things right.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'Bobby, am I good for a break?' Dean questions, throwing his spanner back into the toolbox after emerging from under a gorgeous Mustang that just needed a little tuning. He picks up the small rag of fabric before walking through to Bobby's office, cleaning his hands from the oil that covered them.

Bobby normally can hear him from his office, something that has always come back to bite him in the ass whenever he decides to sing along to a pop song that he normally says he hates. But now, he's not getting a single reply and it's a mixture of annoying and worrying. Bobby always replies; no matter what he's doing.

'Bobby?' He calls, sticking his head in through the office door, only to find it empty. Panic eats away at his chest, spreading through his whole body like wildfire. Why the hell isn't Bobby in his office? Where the hell _is _Bobby?

He throws the oil-stained rag onto the nearest surface, before he starts running towards the house that's honestly only held together by hope. He bursts in through the door, surveying the room with wide, frantic eyes, and when he hears noises coming from the kitchen, he slips his wand out of his jean's pocket and slowly makes his way to the room.

However, the second he can see it, he sees the familiar sight of Ellen preparing pie with help from Jo, who's cutting and slicing the apples.

They turn when they hear him step into the room, and his eyes land on Jo first, and he hates the way her eyes glitter with the knowledge of his secret. She hasn't told anyone, and hasn't even brought it up again, but she still knows and every time she looks at him, that's all he can see in those brown eyes.

'Dean? What's wrong, you look like you've seen a ghost, love.' Ellen says, sitting down the bowl with the pastry and taking a step over to him. He finds it amazing that despite the fact she's magic, she doesn't use it when she cooks or bakes. It reminds him of his mother; she never used her magic when it came to baking either. She never trusted it to get it right, she would say to him, as she let him like the batter of the cake mix off the spoon.

He always thought Ellen and Mary would get on well.

'Where's Bobby?' He asks instead, not even bothering to say anything to ease her concerns.

She cups his face, and he leans into the touch, sighing softly at the motherly touch. God bless Ellen Harvelle, he thinks.

'He's away to the store. I'm sure he told you.'

'He did. I was there.' Jo adds, and Dean can't help the frown that appears on his face. Bobby told Dean that he was heading out? Why can't Dean remember that? 'You must've been spacing… thinking of spending a night on the roof or something.'

Jo's eyes are dancing and sparkling with mischief when Dean's gaze meets them, but there's warmth under there too. She's not being mean, he reminds himself, she's being his annoying little sister, and with that knowledge, he rolls his eyes and shoves her on his way past as he leaves the kitchen.

'Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes, Dean! Don't do anything that won't take long!' Ellen's voice follows him from the kitchen, and he waves his hand over his shoulder to let her know that he's heard her.

He makes his way into his room, shutting the door behind him with a small sigh as he reclines his head against the wood. That night on the roof. He hadn't even been thinking about it when Bobby apparently told him he was leaving, he hadn't really been thinking about _anything_. But now that Jo had brought it up… it was all he could think about.

Cas.

How could he be so fucking stupid to walk away from him that night? He wanted to kiss him; he wanted to move closer to him, and now here he was, stuck in his room with no freaking idea where his (ex) best friend is.

He needs to see him again, someway or another, he needs to see his friend's face again. He can't really remember what he looks like. Whenever he thinks of him, it's blue eyes and dark tousled hair and soft pink lips. Though he doesn't try to think of those pink lips.

Dean's eyes fly open the second he remembers the photo they took together, once they had sat their final OWL exam. He should still have that somewhere.

He moves away from the door, heading over to his bedside chest of drawers, pulling open the third and last drawer where he keeps all his little memorial things; the photo of his mother, the photo of their family before everything went to hell, his letters from Cas that he's still not reread. Everything that's happy, and so too sad for him to look at gets put in this drawer.

He sifts through the parchment and other photos, hoping to find the one he's really looking for, but before he can get far, something burns his fingertip, and he pulls his hand out of the drawer with a gasp, his finger automatically going to his mouth to ease the burn.

His frown is deep when he extends his hand back into the drawer, moving everything out the way, carefully trying to find whatever the fuck burned him.

When he sees it, his eyes widen in understanding; the coin from Dumbledore's Army. Sure, it looks just like a normal Galleon, but Dean knows that a) he'd never put any money in this drawer, when they're as broke as they are, and b) that it's the only coin he owns that burns like that.

It usually burned when a new meeting was being held, the writing on the coin changing to show the date, but Dumbledore's Army has long been broken up. Why would anyone want to summon a meeting, when half the people have left and the leader was God-only-knows-where hiding from that fucker, Lord Voldemort.

His curiosity is too great to ignore, so Dean pulls the coin out, only to drop it a moment later with a gasp as he reads the words that have formed on the metal:

_WAR AT HOGWARTS. _

* * *

><p><strong><em>Sorry for the cliffhanger, but uh, yeah! <em>**

**_Review?_**

**_~Charlotte.x_**


	12. Ch XII: Owed to Love and Broken Promises

_**Here's another chapter! So sorry for how long it took!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter XII: Owed to Love and Broken Promises.<strong>

Dean doesn't waste any time. He pulls himself up from the crouching position he was previously in, hands scrambling to find the coin once more and pick it back up, and once it's in his grasp, he tightens his hand around it so tightly that he's afraid it's going to disappear under his skin.

His footsteps thunder throughout the house as he runs down the stairs, bursting into the kitchen with wide eyes and an expression that makes Jo let go of the knife in her hands, and for the bowl that Ellen was holding to clatter to the worktop surface.

'Dean, what is it?' Ellen questions, but Dean's never told anyone about Dumbledore's Army. Not his dad or Bobby or Ellen. No-one. The only person that knows about it and how the coin works is Jo, and so that's why he turns his gaze onto her, throwing the coin at her and thanking her quick reflexes when she catches it straight away. The last thing he needs now is for her to drop it and for another minute or two to be wasted trying to catch a stray Galleon.

'"War at Hogwarts"?' Jo reads aloud, turning the Galleon over with a frown as she recognises it almost immediately. Her brown eyes meet Dean's a second later, and there's worry and panic hidden directly beneath the layer of scepticism that Dean meets. 'Is this a joke?'

Dean hadn't even considered the possibility of it being a joke… seems like a sick joke, though, too sick for anyone that was a part of Dumbledore's Army. But what if it is a joke? What if he's just getting wound up for nothing, and it's just some stupid, humourless dickhead thinking he's funny?

Well, Dean still wants to go to Hogwarts; whether it's to fight in a war or just punch the bastard in the face is still to be discovered, depending entirely on whether the note is true or not.

'Is someone going to fill me in here? What the hell is on the Galleon and why do you think there's a war at Hogwarts?' Ellen snaps, and suddenly Dean is filled with impatience, because now he has to go through the whole history of Dumbledore's Army when people could be invading Hogwarts and trying to kill his brother? There's no way he's waiting that long before he goes to his old school. No way at all.

'It's a coin that can change it's wording to send secret messages, and apparently, there's a war at Hogwarts,' Jo explains quickly, handing the coin over to her mother without being prompted to.

Ellen gives her daughter a soft smirk at the instinct, but it's quickly wiped off her face when she reads the words on the fake Galleon, swallowing down the panic that starts clawing away at her from the inside, desperate to get out.

'You two stay here; I'll go and check,' Ellen starts, but she doesn't even get to move one step or get another word in, for both Dean and Jo shout in protest.

'My _brother _is there, Ellen! If you think I'm going to just sit here with my thumb up my ass, waiting for news on what's happening, you've got another thing coming,' Dean declares as he draws himself up to his full height, his shoulders puling themselves back automatically and straightening himself, much like his dad taught him when he was a young boy, because John was a Marine and apparently all six-year-olds should stand like Marines.

'And if you think I'm just going to sit in another room because he's sitting in this one with his thumb up his ass, well, you're sorely mistaken. If there's a fight, I'm fighting, and you're not going to change my mind,' Jo declares, her eyes set even as she steps aside to dodge the oncoming slap from Dean.

Ellen looks like she's going to protest; looks like she's thinking about using her "mother" voice and _demanding _them to stay here, but then she sees the look in their eyes. There's a determination in both of them, something so similar that reminds her both of her late husband, and of Mary Winchester, a woman she never got to meet but will admire for everything she taught Dean in their short time together.

She sighs, 'Fighting is only a necessity, do you understand? You make sure people are _safe_ first before you cast any spells, you hear me?'

'Yes ma'am,' Dean nods his head, grinning when he notices Ellen roll her eyes despite herself.

'Right, from what I've heard, Apparating is now allowed in the grounds of Hogwarts, so both of you go there; I'll catch up with you.' Ellen explains, before she goes to turn away, but Jo's voice stops her, suddenly worried about her mother.

'What are you going to to do?'

'I'm going to find Bobby and let him know. I don't want him coming home to an empty house and thinking the same thing happened to us that happened to his last wife.' Ellen declares softly, before she moves forward, reaching up with each hand to cup both Jo and Dean's cheek. 'Cut down anyone that tries to hurt you, and make sure your family is safe. I'll be with you as soon as I can.'

She moves forward and presses a gentle kiss to her children's forehead, before she urges them on with a small shove.

'Now go, war doesn't wait for no-one.'

Dean's tempted to pull her into an embrace but realises that she's right. The Death Eaters and Voldemort won't wait for two nineteen-year-olds to say goodbye to their mother. They need to get a move on if they are planning on helping; if they're planning on doing some justice.

Dean grabs ahold of Jo's hand and concentrates on the school that he's tried not to think about for the past year. He doesn't even know if what Ellen said was true. If the ban on Apparating in Hogwarts' grounds had been lifted, but he's willing to take a leap of faith. After all, if Voldemort and the Death Eaters have control over the school… it seems like something they would do.

The second he lands, he realises just how bad the idea to Apparate directly into Hogwarts Castle actually was. They had no idea where the Death Eaters were, where they were stationed. Not to mention that the members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order could curse them, thinking that they were Death Eaters.

'Where do we start, Dean?' Jo questions the second they land on the stone ground of Hogwarts castle. No-one is around them just yet, so no fighting has broken out just yet.

'Great Hall,' Dean replies immediately. His hand automatically reaches for hers, and before he even realises what he's doing, he's running in the direction of the Great Hall with Jo trailing behind him, her hand holding onto Dean's almost painfully.

'Why the Great Hall?'

'Every student knows where it is and it can hold them all! The Professors will want to let them know what's happening and what to do.' Dean explains. 'It just makes sense,' he finishes with a shrug, and Jo gives a small breathless chuckle.

'Smart-ass.'

Dean doesn't have to time to turn his head over his shoulder and give her a grin, and maybe even a wink, because he's determined to get to the Great Hall. They don't pass anyone as they make their way to the Hall, and Dean takes that as as sign; they're all there, already. That's why. It's got nothing to do with them being too late. Nothing at all.

Before long, the great double-doors of the Great Hall are in their sight, and Dean takes in a deep breath before he starts to run faster; kicking himself off the ground with more force in order to propel himself further along.

'Got your wand out, Jo?' He questions through pants, as he reaches with his free hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls his wand out.

'Had it out before you,' Jo quips and even though Dean isn't looking at her, he can hear the damn smirk in her voice.

_Who's the smart-ass now? _He wants to retort, but the doors are right in front of him, and he's so focused on pulling his hand free from Jo's grasp in order to push them open, that he doesn't even remember he can _speak_.

They stumble into the Great Hall, their breaths coming out short and sharp, and when they finally look around the Hall, they see the familiar faces of the people that were once in Fifth and Sixth Year before they left. Though, he assumes that they're in Sixth and Seventh Year now.

They all turn to stare at them, and neither Jo nor Dean can blame them. They probably thought they were Death Eaters and were the first attack on the castle.

'Winchester! Harvelle! What are you doing here?' McGonagall's familiar voice demands, and Dean's head whips to the front of the room where Professor McGonagall stands, worry eating away at her lined face. She's still the same as Dean remembers her; emerald robes, thick-Scottish accent, stern but somehow still kind-faced.

'We heard there was an attack on Hogwarts,' Dean explains, stepping forward and looking around the room for members of Dumbledore's Army. When he catches sight of Neville Longbottom standing beside Ginny Weasley, as well as the rest of the Weasley family, Dean grins at them. He pulls the coin from his pocket, where he had stuffed it when Ellen gave it back to him, and tosses it to McGonagall as soon as he's close enough. 'We're here to help.'

McGonagall sighs as she lifts her gaze from the coin and looks back to Dean and Jo, before her eyes trail over the entire Great Hall.

'Very well, Winchester. We are evacuating the younger students, you and Miss Harvelle can help with that right now. Be ready to fight when the Battle starts.'

Jo turns and runs over to the nearest member of the Order, asking how she can help, but instead, Dean walks straight to McGonagall.

'Have you seen Sam?'

A fond smile pulls at her thin lips, 'They are currently with Professor Lupin and Miss Tonks, trying to arrange the evacuation of the Second Year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.' She waves her hand to a group standing on the far right of the Hall, and Dean turns back to her with a smile. There's something else on her face, but Dean shrugs mentally. He needs to get to Sam right now. Worrying what Professor McGongall isn't on the top of his list.

'Thanks Professor,' he mutters, before he goes to turn away, but something comes into his mind, and with an almost sheepish expression on his face, he adds, 'Stay safe.'

He turns and runs to the group where Sam's supposed to be before McGonagall can say anything in reply.

Okay, so it's not top of his list. But it's definitely_ on_ the list.

'Sammy!' He calls the second he's close enough, and his little brother's head shoots up, his eyes flying to Dean in an instant.

'Dean!' Sam replies, suddenly ignoring his duties and whatever Remus Lupin was saying to him, and waves his brother over.

However, before they can even say a word to each other, tell the other how happy they are to see them, to have one of their silent conversations with their eyes, admitting that they're scared all the while telling the other there's nothing to be scared of, another voice seeps in through the Great Hall.

A voice that sends chills down Dean's spine, despite the fact he told himself not to be afraid of the man.

'_I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.' _Dean wants to scoff at his words. He's already spilled magical blood._ 'Give me Harry Potter, and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight_.'

Then the voice is gone.

Dean swallows hard, but before he can even express how fucking _stupid _Voldemort must be, there's a scream.

'There he's there!' Pansy Parkinson screeches, and as Dean turns, he can see Harry standing in the middle of the Hall, and it's in that moment he realises most of the Hall is divided by House. The Slytherins stand at the top on the left, the Gryffindors beside them on the others side of the Hall, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stand at the bottom. 'Someone grab him!'

The second the words are out of her mouth, the entire Gryffindor House - Dean included - have their wands pointed at the Slytherins, and after only another second, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs follow suit, all three Houses threateningly pointing their wands at the members of Slytherin, daring them to try and touch Harry.

'All Slytherins will be escorted out of the castle through the passage that leads to the Hog's Head Inn,' McGonagall declares, and a small cheer sweeps through the room. 'As well as any other student that is not of age; those at are may wish to stay behind a fight, but it is not required of you, and most definitely not expected of you.'

Dean turns back to Sammy as the Order members finally start their evacuation plans, and when he notices the look on Sam's face, he gives him a soft smile.

'It's for the best, Sam. You're too young to -'

Sam cuts him off before he can even finish the thought, 'I'm _staying, _Dean. I don't give a fuck what McGonagall says. I'm not going home so I can twiddle my thumbs and wonder how many people I love aren't going to come home. You even _think _about making me, and I'll hex you into next week,' and with that, Sam turns on his heel and starts ordering First Years to follow the Order members.

Dean stares at his back for a few seconds, ready to protest that fact because no, he's not going to let his little brother fight and run the risk of dying for the sake of some _school. _But then he remembers just what a determined ass his brother can be, and with a sigh, he concludes that it'd be easier just watching his back than telling him not to fight.

'Fine. I got you.' Dean mutters, before he starts to follow his example and usher the First Years out of the Hall.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'Sam!' Dean shouts, his head whirling around to try and find his brother. He was standing by his side not five seconds ago, where the hell did he get to? 'Sammy!'

'_Expelliarmus! Stupefy!' _Dean sends the spells to the Death Eater that sends a Killing Curse his way. He curses when his first spell misses, but the next one is straight out of his mouth and hits the Death Eater square on his chest, sending him flying backwards.

His hand sweats around his wand, and he loosens his grasp for a split second, before readjusting his hold.

'Dammit,' he hisses before he turns back around, casting yet another spell at a passing-by Death Eater. He nearly trips over something as he starts to move, hoping to get somewhere and _find _Sam again, but when he looks down he's nearly sick.

He steps over the corpse that lies at his feet, swallowing down the bile that rises in his throat. It's a Death Eater, but it's still a dead body, and it's just _lying _there, stone cold and eyes distant and glazed over. Maybe he had a family; maybe he had a son or daughter that didn't know where he was right now, and didn't know he wasn't going to come home again.

Dean takes a deep breath in and briefly closes his eyes. They bolt open a second later, however, when he hears the sound of a hex whooshing by his ear.

'It's a war.' He mutters, reminding himself that moments like that aren't allowed. There'll be plenty of time for emptying the contents of his stomach, and wondering if it was really worth it later. Well, _maybe_ there will be. Either way, the time isn't now.

Another flash of green shoots by his head, and he turns his head to see yet another Death Eater advancing towards him, wand in hand and ready to cast another Killing Curse.

He's not going to use any Unforgivables, that's for sure, but there's got to be something more violent that _Stupefy _right?

'_Reducto!_' Dean exclaims as soon as the Death Eater is closer than he'd like, and he watches with a grin as the man is thrown backwards. He can't help but smile wider when the man crashes into the walls of the castle and falls to the ground unconscious.

Dean's about to take another step forward, ready to defend himself against whoever else that tries to hurt him, when a cold, harsh voice seeps into his mind.

'_You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured._' The voice of Lord Voldemort informs, and Dean feels his hand tighten its hold on his wand, despite the fact the wizard had just told them they had an hour armistice. '_I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.' _

Then the voice is gone, and before Dean can even register or process the words of the man they were fighting against, his followers are suddenly gone. Apparating out of Hogwarts and to the Forbidden Forest to be with their master… at least that's what Dean reckons.

He takes a deep breath and turns around, looking at everyone else that surrounds the battle field, and it only takes one person to turn and pick up their injured friend before heading back into the castle, for everyone else to follow suit.

Dean makes his way back into the castle, hoping to God and Merlin and whoever else that will listen, that his brother is in there, alive and unscathed. It's this thought that pushes him into a run, feeling that his previous walking pace was just too damn slow.

He needs to get to the Great Hall, he needs to make sure that his brother is still here; that his brother is still _alive_. He doesn't know how he'd react if had to find Sammy's body laid out beside his friends. It's already bad enough he's lost Fred Weasley and Ash and _Benny, _the Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who had left by the time Dean had entered his Sixth Year and joined Dumbledore's Army, but had always been there for him before he graduated.

He's lost the friends that he adored, and he doesn't want to see his brother, his _baby brother, _who he had sworn to protect, lying beside them. He just can't witness that. He can't.

By the time he bursts into the Great Hall, he's hyperventilating, his breath coming out so sharp and short that his mind starts to spin; his vision starts to blur. The image of Sam, broken and dead lying beside the other people he loves has imprinted itself into his mind, and he needs to find him, needs to see him and _hold _him, right now, in order to make those images go away.

Dean stands by the door, his eyes frantically searching the large room, trying to find his brother. The damn thing is packed to the bursting point; people treating their wounds in the rare time-out that Voldemort has called in order to get Harry to surrender; people grieving dead loved ones, people consoling friends. He can see everything, from the blank stare of those that can't believe what's happened, to the cries of anguish of family members.

And he needs to find Sam.

He can feel the worry clench at his lungs, sharpen his breath impossibly further, and his legs start to feel weak; start to buckle because even standing up is too much. He _needs_ to find Sammy.

He doesn't care if he looks like an idiot doing so, if he pisses Sam off by being so over-protective, he just needs to find him, and it's with this thought that he takes as deep a breath as he can manage, and shouts, 'Sammy!'

People turn to stare at him, a mixture of both pity and confusion on their faces, thinking that he's either in denial or just doesn't know the sad news yet. He wonders if they know it; wonders if they've seen Sam's corpse lying cold beside someone else's; wonders if that's why they're looking at him like that.

He's almost ready to ask them where his body is when he hears it, the sound of someone calling his name.

'Dean!'

And that's most definitely Sam's voice. His head whips around to where he's positive the voice came from, but he can't see Sam. Not until he finally pushes himself through the throng of people and comes running towards Dean.

He can't help himself. As soon as his brother is within reach, he wraps his arms around his neck, tugging him closer as Sam's arms wide around his waist. Usually, hugs and embraces like this are too chick-flick for Dean's liking, but right now, with the image of Sam lying on the stone ground, pale and lifeless, still seared into Dean's mind, he really doesn't give a fuck. He wants to feel Sam's warmth spread through him, wants to feel his heartbeat thud against his own, wants to know that he's _safe_.

It doesn't last long, however, for Dean pulls away in order to look at Sam, really look at him. It's the first time he realises that his baby brother is nearly as tall as he is, as he cups his neck and tilts his head this way and that in order to check his skin for cuts and bruises, like a mother would.

'I'm fine, Dean,' Sam's voice declares, and since when did it get so deep? When did his voice break? But before Dean can ponder this any further, Sam is talking again, and his words distract him from his voice. 'Where's Ellen and Jo?'

'I thought they were with you; they said they were coming to find you.' Dean replies, letting his hands move from Sam's neck. One falls by his side but the other remains on his shoulder, holding him tight as if he's afraid he'll disappear, or as if he's afraid he'll collapse to the ground if he doesn't use Sam for support.

Maybe it's a bit of both, he realises.

'I haven't seen them since they got here,' Sam answers and before Dean can even begin to panic, Jess is suddenly there, her small hand finding its way into Sam's. She's panting hard and there are tears in her eyes, and that is never a good sign.

'I've found them. I'm so sorry!' She whispers, before the first tear falls. Sam's free hand comes up to wipe it away, throwing Dean's hand off his shoulder in the process.

'Where are they?' Dean demands, his voice fiercer than he intended, but judging from the fact that Sam doesn't give him into trouble for it, they both know it was just a mistake; a heat-of-the-moment thing.

Jess doesn't say anything, just turns and leads them in the direction she had came from, and when they get there, Dean can see Ellen, but he can't see Jo.

Not until he's standing right beside her and he can see the body that Ellen is leaning over as she cries.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yep. Another cliffy. I'm evil!<strong>_

_**Also anon - i can't really decide what accent they'd have. in my mind, they still have their american accents, because mary and john are still american and only moved to britain when she got a job with the ministry. and seeing as the boys spent most of the time with their father, well, i think they'd have the same accent. so, uh, yeah. i know it doesn't really sound feasible but, that's just what my mind says!**_

_**please review! i'd love you forever!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	13. Ch XIII: Promise to Stop and Think of Me

_**another chapter so soon? must be a miracle!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter XIII: Promise to Stop and Think of Me.<strong>

He feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs, as he looks down and sees Jo's face, cold and white, as she lies on the floor. Ellen is draped over her, but she seems to know that they're there, for she sits back, her hand still cupping her daughters cheek, and can't help but Dean swallow hard. The last time she did that, she was saying she'd see them again; before they left to fight this war.

She turns her head and when her eyes meet Dean's, his legs finally give out from under him, and he falls to the ground beside her. His knees collide with the stone floor, and it _hurts_ but he doesn't pay attention to it, because in front of him is Jo. Lovely, bubbly Jo Harvelle, who was like him in every single way, yet somehow so different. He's what he imagines himself as if John had died and Mary had lived. Still got issues with losing a parent, but a whole different set of issues.

And now she's gone. The little sister he loved; the little sister that once or twice ventured into girlfriend territory. And even though they had agreed to never try anything like a relationship again, the fact that she was gone meant that they couldn't even _talk _about how that would work out. Whether they'd last or whether they'd collapse in flames, like they often said they would.

They couldn't do that now, and Dean's ready for bursting.

'I'm so sor-' he doesn't even get the sentence out of his mouth, for a sob chokes him and tears fall from his eyes. His hand comes up to wipe them away, but more follow the second Ellen's arms wrap around his body, pulling him into an embrace and resting his head on her shoulder. Her hand comes up to card through her hair and Dean can't seem to help the breathless sob as he clings to her.

He feels bad for this. Not because he think he doesn't deserve the comfort or anything, but because he had just lost a friend, a sister, Ellen had lost her _daughter_, and whilst family maybe didn't end in blood, it was still one of the strongest bonds.

Yet, here she was, wrapping her arms around Dean's body, running her fingers through his hair and whispering soft, comforting words and sounds into his ear. If anyone deserved this treatment, it was Ellen herself. She deserved to be comforted; she shouldn't be the one doing the comforting.

But Dean can't seem to make his mind realise that, for he tightens her hold on her, his fingers grabbing ahold of her shirt as he breathes in deep, trying to stop more tears from falling.

He forces himself out of her embrace eventually, though, turning back to Jo's lifeless body. He reaches out with his hand and cups her cheek, sucking in a deep breath when he feels how _cold _she is. He hates this. He hates that he can't protect his friends, the people he loves. How the hell was he ever going to make it as an Auror if he couldn't even keep the people he loved safe?

'Who did it?' He questions, his voice nothing but a snarl as he asks the question. No-one answers him, not right away, obviously afraid that if they tell him the name of the Death Eater, that he'd march into the Forbidden Forest and kill them. Not that he'd get that far. That's why they don't want to tell him, but when he snaps, 'Who was it?' in an even harsher voice, Ellen swallows hard and decides to answer him, just to put the poor boy's mind at ease.

'Meg Masters.' Ellen declares, her voice filled with venom as she utters the name of the person that took her daughter away from her. 'Well, she had some sort of creature with her, I didn't really have a chance to see what they were, but…'

'I'm going to skin her alive.' Dean sneers, his thumb tracing over Jo's cheekbone, noticing how blue her lips are, how white her skin is, how dry her hair looks. 'I am going to make her wish she had left this place the second that she…'

He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't need to, judging by the way Ellen's hand finds its way onto his free one, squeezing it tightly. He had to stop himself before he uttered the words "killed your husband". It would've been too much for her, having the reminder that she had lost both her first husband and now her daughter.

'Losing you won't bring her back, Dean.' Ellen declares softly, her voice still strong despite how quiet it is. 'Don't go after her to avenge Jo. You know she'll slap you silly when you get to Heaven if you do that.'

Despite himself, Dean lets out a chuckle, finding it hard not to. There's no point in lying. If Dean had to get into Heaven alongside Jo, she would kill him again for dying for trying to avenge her. She was always so nonchalant about death; declaring how it's nothing; that it's notsomething that anyone should worry themselves about; how when you're ready to go, you've obviously done all that you were supposed to in that life.

Dean can't help but wonder if that's what her final thoughts were as well, or if she changed her mind. If she decided that death was something to worry and fear, as whatever creatures Meg set on her slashed at her abdomen, ripping her insides out.

'I don't want to let that bitch live.'

'And she won't, Dean, don't worry. She's never tasted a mother's vengeance.' Ellen growls, as her free hand comes out to grab ahold of Jo's hand, and Dean wonders if that's as cold as her face is, or if it's even colder. She always had cold hands, even when it was warm out.

Dean just nods his head before he feels Sam kneel beside him, and that's when he tears his hand away from Jo's cheek, and wraps his arm around Sam's shoulders instead.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'_Harry Potter is _**_dead_**!'

It's the first words that they've really heard since the hour armistice began. Of course, people had talked to them and there was constant noise around them, but this was the first sentence that had well and truly stuck; that had made all four of their heads snap up and turn to look at the doors to the Great Hall.

The whole room starts to mutter about the declaration, but before anyone can actually voice everyone's thought of "what the hell is happening?", Voldemort is speaking again and they're left to focus on his words.

'_He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as well every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before him, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together._'

Dean doesn't want to believe them, wants to believe that this is just some other ruse in order to get them out of the castle and then attack them, but he doesn't believe that. He can't. He knows the kind of person that Harry is, and he knows that he wouldn't have ran, but he also knows that he would've went into the Forbidden Forest in order to save people; to stop people from dying for him.

He swallows hard, trying to ease the panic that rises in his chest, because is this really the end? Is this the way everything is going to be from now on? A magical world run by Lord Voldemort; a person who would hunt down his friend, his Castiel, and kill him because of his blood? It can't be. It just can't be. He's not going to allow it.

But then everyone moves. They leave the side of their loved ones and head for the front entrance of Hogwarts castle, moving to find out whether Voldemort was really telling the truth, and Dean finds himself standing and following them, unable to stop himself, even though it means leaving Jo behind.

He knows that Voldemort is not going to be lying, but he needs to see it for himself.

He makes his way to the front of the crowd, tugging Sam with him as he does so, who in turn drags Jess along behind him.

When they hear an anguished cry, followed by a sick, sadistic laugh, Dean gets impatient and starts to become more forceful as he pushes his way to the front. There aren't a lot of people there anyway, but it's still more than Dean can tolerate at the moment.

When he gets to the front, he feels that every last shred of hope and faith has left him, when his eyes immediately zone in on Hagrid, and see him crying as he carries a body, with Voldemort's stupid snake, Nagini, wrapped around his shoulders.

'No,' it's Jess' voice, but Dean can't really pay attention to it, not as he really, truly sees that it's Harry that Hagrid holds in his arms, and not some lookalike; not some ruse by Voldemort to draw his enemies out of the castle. Not some lie.

Harry Potter is lying dead in Hagrid's arms, as lifeless as the people in the Great Hall; the people that died in order to protect him.

Dean doesn't know what to think when he hears Ron, Hermione and Ginny's screams, which sound even more horrible than McGonagall's, but for some reason, he finds himself shouting; finds himself joining in with the crowds as he tells Voldemort exactly what he thinks of him and the people that follow him. But it's cut short, when Voldemort orders them all to be silent, and suddenly his shouts stop.

He doesn't know how to feel when Voldemort orders Harry to be set to the ground, declaring that he was nothing more than a boy that relied on other people's scarifies. He can't seem to help but join in with the shouts once more as they start up, only to be silenced once again.

However, he knows what he feels when Neville rushes towards Voldemort, trying to get to him without a wand in his feels proud. Neville was never the bravest of people; some people question his sorting in Gryffindor, and yet here he was, openly trying to attack Voldemort wandless, just to protect his dead friend.

Dean also know that he feels anger when Bellatrix and Meg mock Neville, trying to please their master, and he feels disgust when Voldemort offers Neville a place amongst the Death Eaters, for being brave and a Pure-Blood, because _of course_, that's all that they care about. Someone's blood. They don't care that the best of people can be found in the muddiest of waters. He feels ready to kill someone when Voldemort summons the Sorting Hat after Neville rejects his offer, before he casts an immobilising charm on Neville. When he puts the Hat on Neville's head, and sets it aflame, Dean feels like he's ready implode, just to put an end to everything.

But then the Giants start fighting, and the Centaurs appear from the entrance, having come from the Forbidden Forest, despite the fact they had declared they would not fight for either side. Their arrows shoot through the skies, raining over the Death Eaters, who are so shocked from the onslaught that they stop listening to Voldemort, when he orders them to remain in position.

And when he sees Harry rise from the ground, his wand drawn as he starts a duel with Voldemort; when he sees Neville take the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, and then behead Nagini, he starts to feel his faith and hope grow again. Maybe the war wasn't lost after all, maybe they still had a fighting chance. Maybe they had lost the battle, but won the war.

He had wanted to fight, but when he turns and sees Harry duelling with Voldemort, and Molly Weasley duelling with Bellatrix, he realises that he doesn't need to fight unless someone tries to hex him. These two fights… they're the ones that are going to decide the future, not some little skirmish with a random Death Eater. It's down to Harry and Molly to kill Voldemort and his right-hand.

Dean's eyes scan the room, and when he finds Sam, he can't help but feel a smile tug at his lips, despite the situation. His brother's hand is entwined with Jess', and they're busy watching the two duels as well, but like usual, Sam just seems to _know _that his brother is looking at him, and when they're eyes meet, they both hold the same thought: "maybe we're going to see another day after all".

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Something tugs at Dean's heartstrings when he sees Sam standing beside Jess, hand wrapped tightly around hers, as he tries to be strong and fight back the tears that are obviously trying to break free.

It's times like this he wonders why he let someone like Cas go; he can see how good it must feel, to have someone there that loves you, that wants to support you; someone who will hold your hand, and wipe away the tears and hold them; someone that's just _there_, a constant rock; a guardian angel.

Dean's green eyes move away from Sam and Jess, and instead land on Bobby, even though that doesn't make him feel any better. There's something odd about seeing Bobby in a black suit, with his beard trimmed, his hair combed back and not hidden under his cap. He wishes he didn't have to see Bobby like that for the first time in this situation.

When Bobby reaches up to wipe away tears, Dean turns his head away from him then, turning instead to the gravestone that they're standing around, as two coffins are lowered into the ground in front of them.

_Ellen Harvelle: 2__nd__ November, 1968 - 2__nd__ May 1998.  
>Beloved wife of Robert Singer and loving mother of:<br>Joanna Beth Harvelle: 7__th__ April 1979 - 2__nd__ May 1998.  
>Rest in peace: gone but never forgotten.<em>

There's a lump in his throat as he reads the headstone. How did he manage to lose them both? How did that bitch Meg manage to take both of them; how did she manage to take the _entire _Harvelle family? How was she just locked in Azkaban and not cut up into tiny pieces, with each piece stuck on a spike somewhere?

He doesn't know. He doesn't find it fair. He doesn't find it fair that the war was finally over; that Voldemort and Bellatrix were finally dead, thanks to Harry and Molly, and neither Jo or Ellen were around to see it; were around to celebrate it. They had no chance to live in a world where they didn't have to worry about being killed for being "blood-traitors". They didn't get a chance to live in a world without the constant threat of Lord Voldemort hanging over them.

How is that fair?

It's not. It most definitely is not fair.

But today is already hard enough for everyone as it is, he doesn't need to make it worse by getting into a big rant about life being fair, or that they all deserved better. He has no doubt that everyone already has thought about that; about how unfair everything is. They didn't really need Dean to voice it.

So maybe that's why he shoves his hands into his pocketsand stays silent, not speaking until he has to bow his head and say "amen" to the silent prayer, hoping his mother was right when she said that angels were watching over him, because right now, he needs one. He has no-one other than Sammy and Bobby now, and soon, Sam is going to leave with Jess, and Bobby is going to want to grieve, and Dean will be left with no-one.

And once again, his mind starts to think about how much better he'd be able to cope with things if Cas were here with him. He can remember how good it felt to finally talk about his mother's death to _someone_. Can remember how warm Cas' hand was in his grasp, how soothing the feeling of having his hand in his was. He can remember how peaceful he felt whenever he was in Cas' presence, and he has no doubt in his mind that if Cas were here, he would be able to deal with this better.

But Cas isn't here. Of course not, because Dean is a fucking idiot and doesn't deserve happily-ever-afters. Those are reserved for people like Sam; who are good to the core.

He's not sure what happens after the coffins are finally lowered into the ground, as everything seems to blur together, and it isn't until he's back at Bobby's having dropped Jess off at her house, that he realises that he's home; that he's sitting on his bed and that things are different. That there's no sound of Jo and Ash arguing in the next room, that there's no smell of pie being baked by Ellen, because they were all dead and gone.

Everything that once made this mould-infested house a home was gone. It was planted in the ground now.

And it wasn't ever going to come back.

But then he realises that he still has Sam. Sure, the little nerd is going back to Hogwarts in September, and he's going to get together with Jess and they'll get married, but until then, he still has Sam.

And it's that thought that makes him leave his bedroom and walk to Sam's, taking off the cufflinks of his shirt as he does so, and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He knocks twice before he enters, and when he does, he sees Sam sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hand.

'Sammy?'

'I still can't believe it.' Sam states in reply, and Dean bites his lower lip, before he steps fully into the room and sits down beside him.

'I know. But hey, at least you've got Jess. She'll help you through this, more than Bobby or I ever could. Be thankful that you've still got her after all that's happened; other people aren't so lucky.'

'Like you and Cas, you mean?' Sam replies, lifting his head from his hands, and when he notices his brother's surprised expression, he gives a wry smile. 'I'm not blind, Dean. I saw the way you were together, and I saw the way you two just fell apart for no reason at all. I'm here if you want to talk about it, y'know. You always look like you do.'

'I do… I talked about it with Jo, actually,' Dean finally admits after clearing his throat once or three times, deciding that hiding it from his brother wouldn't be of much use. He needs to get this out on the open. If Jo didn't judge him, then there is no way in hell that Sam is going to do it; if anything, he's going to pissed for the same reason Jo was, for running away and leaving Cas like that.

'What happened between you two, Dean? You were both so happy together; you would've been perfect as something more.'

'I kissed him, Sammy,' Dean says instead of protesting to the fact that they would be "perfect" together. That'd be a bit of a push. They may have worked well together, sure, and it's not like Dean didn't think that himself, but perfect? No. No-one and no relationship was perfect. There would be problems that would come up sometimes, sure, but they'd be strong enough to work through it. He also believed in that.

He tells Sam the exact same thing he told Jo; how he enjoyed it (though, maybe he edits out _how _much he enjoyed and wanted it, for the sake of his brother's embarrassment and sanity, because he's sure that's an image he doesn't want in his mind), how, when he realised who he was kissing, he freaked out because he couldn't stand the thought of losing his best friend, how he realised how stupid that idea was because he ended up losing Cas anyway.

When he's finished, he can't believe he just told all of that to his brother, but he's even more surprised when Sam doesn't react as surprised as Jo did. He merely nods his head and shrugs his shoulders, almost as if having an internal conversation with himself, and Dean can't help the frown that appears on his face.

'That's it?'

'What d'you mean?' Sam asks, confused.

'I just told you I _kissed Castiel_, and you just nod your head and shrug?' Dean explains, his voice sounding even more confused than he feels, but he can't help it. How was that an appropriate reaction? Shouldn't he be flipping out in _some _way, whether a negative or positive reaction, shouldn't it at least be bigger?

Instead, Sam just shrugs again, 'I thought it was something like that, to be honest.'

Before Dean can properly react to that, before he can start ranting and raving at the fact Sam just _shrugged _again, and apparently thought that Dean kissing Cas was the first conclusion, there's a rasping at the window, and both of their heads turn to see an owl perched on the windowsill of Sam's room.

Sam stands then, noticing that his brother is apparently in too much shock from his reaction to his story to move, and walks over to the let the bird in. As soon as he can, he unties the letter from the birds leg, giving its feathers a smooth down, before feeding it a small treat.

The owl hoots happily before it turns and flies out the window, and when Sam turns back to Dean, he extends the letter to him.

'It's for you. It's from the Ministry.'

Dean frowns, taking the letter from his brother's grasp, and when he sees his name and address on it, before turning it over and seeing the Ministry's seal, his frown deepens.

He opens the envelope with shaky fingers, wondering if this will finally be the letter that will informhim that they found Cas' dead body.

Instead, the fear that he felt the second he saw the seal evaporates as he reads the cursive writing. His frown is replaced with a smile, which widens as his eyes trail down the page, and by the time he reaches the end, he's grinning from ear to ear, momentarily forgetting what today had started off with.

'What? What is it?' Sam demands, and the second Dean's eyes meet his, Dean lets out a breathless laugh, as if he can't believe that contents of the letter. 'Dean! Tell me goddammit!'

'Y'know how Harry has been made the Head of the Auror Office?' Dean starts, and when Sam nods, he gives another chuckle, extending his arm and the letter out to his little brother, who takes it straight away, his hazel eyes flitting over the lines as fast as he can. 'Well apparently he put in a word for me, and the things I did at the Battle of Hogwarts.'

'Oh my God.'

'I know.'

'Dean, this is… you've… you're…' Sam trails off, as he finally finishes reading the letter, and his eyes shoot up to his brother once more, unable to help the smile that is also tugging at his lips.

'I know!' Dean exclaims, standing from the bed and snatching the letter back out of Sam's hand, reading it over again just to make sure that he got it right; that there's not a mistake or a misprint, or anything that will dash his excitement.

However, nothing changes; everything is exactly as it was when he first read it, which can only mean one thing.

'I've been accepted for Auror training, Sammy!'

* * *

><p><em><strong>only the epilogue to go after this! <strong>_

_**please review!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	14. Epilogue: Sixteen Years Later

_**here's the epilogue! hope you enjoy it! :D**_

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue: Sixteen Years Later.<strong>

Sixteen years is a long time.

There was a time that Dean was eager to reach his thirties; move away from his dad, become an Auror, have someone to love him and someone that he loved. This was everything he thought would happen when he reached his thirties.

It never pans out that way, though, of course.

His dad left him when he was only sixteen - though, it does beat having to wait the length of your life in order to leave you father, but that still doesn't make it easier - and then Voldemort came back and the Death Eaters took over the Ministry, and made his dreams of being an Auror all but disappear. And Dean was so fucked up by everything that ever happened in his life, that meant no-one would love him.

And, all of this happened and he hadn't even reached thirty yet.

But he nothing would beat his year as a nineteen-year-old; doubted anything would. A fight at Hogwarts; watching his friend, the boy in the year below him, the Chosen One, defeat Voldemort; watching him die. But one triumph did not outweigh all the losses he had suffered; Jo. Ellen. Ash. _Cas_.

Cas, his one and only friend; the only person that _truly _cared for him, and he threw him away, left him alone all because of the stupidest thing. One kiss. One _lousy _kiss, and Dean ran for the hills, left him like he was diseased; told him that he'll "see him around" but knew he wouldn't. He lied bluntly to his face and because of a kiss… a kiss that Dean enjoyed.

Sure, he acted like he didn't; pushed Cas away and said he had to go, but he had wanted it. The only reason he turned away was because he was afraid of losing Cas… something that ended up happening, _because _he didn't want to lose him. How fucked up was that?

And it's not like he didn't try to fix things. After Voldemort fell, and he finished his training as an Auror and got a job in the Ministry, Dean had access to information. He could look up for information about Cas; he discovered that he was still alive, and unemployed.

He even managed to look up his address, and his phone number and was sorely tempted to actually call him, but being the coward that Dean Winchester is, he never did.

Instead, he crumpled up the piece of paper containing all the information and threw it into his fireplace, then promised to never look up on Cas again. He needed to let him live his life.

He finally made it to his dream job of being an Auror… however, after three years of Auror training, followed by a year on the job as an official Auror, he realised that no, this wasn't his dream job after all. Sure, it was definitely living up to his thoughts of it in some ways, but to say that it is what he was made to do? No, that would not be the truth.

But he kept at it, because nothing better was coming up.

That is, until sixteen years later. Sure, it definitely is a long time, but there's no denying that everything was worth it when his brother phoned him up from his work.

'Phoning me from work, Sammy? Don't you have someone to keep out of Azkaban?' Dean jokes and he hears Sammy chuckle before his reply comes.

'I'm having a break, thank you very much,' Sam explains, and Dean can hear some paper rustling, probably moving his documents out of the way so he can eat one of his freaky healthy burgers or something. 'You still coming over for dinner with Jess and me?'

Dean rolls his eyes, 'No, not at all, I'm just going to miss out on the rare opportunity to visit my brother, my sister-in-law and my gorgeous little niece.'

At the mere mention of his niece, Mary Winchester, Dean feels a smile tug at his lips. He was best man at Sam's wedding and godfather to his daughter, but the thing he cried at - or cried the most at, anyway - was when Sam and Jess found out they were having a little girl, and had already settled on a name. The second they told Dean they were naming her Mary after Sam and Dean's mother, Dean broke down in tears.

Sam just laughs, 'Thought as much, anyway, there's a reason I phoned; nothing to do with checking up if you're coming to dinner seeing as I knew your answer, but I've got something you may be interested in.'

'Oh?'

'The Defence Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts has just opened up.' Sam declares, just going straight for the news without any premise. That's just Sam's way after all.

'And?'

'And,' Sam starts, exasperation clear in his voice. 'I know you're not happy with your job as an Auror and you're amazing with kids; I've seen you with Mary, and with Lisa's kid, Ben. I _know _you'd enjoy this job a million times more and I remember how Defence was your favourite subject. So, I've sent away your application.'

'You've _sent _away my application? Without even talking to me? Are you _insane_, Sammy? What do you think you're playing at?' Dean demands, standing from the couch he was sitting in, looking around his dingy little flat with a frown on his face, wishing he had his brother in the room with him so he could have the chance to grab ahold of him and tell him how stupid he was, or even have the opportunity to throw a punch, even though he knew he wouldn't; having the option was still _something_.

'Shut up, Dean, you never know what might happen, but I know if you get the job, you'll love it.'

From his end, Dean can hear another voice from Sam's side and there's a frown on his face as Sam's voice comes through again, 'Look, Dean, I need to go. I'll see you at dinner tonight. But the application is sent and chances are you'll get it with McGonagall being the Headmistress now, so I'd hand in your notice if I were you.'

Before Dean can say anything else, then line goes dead and he pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it in disbelief for a minute, before he drops back down onto his couch again and sighs.

And that's how Dean ended up with a job at his old school.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

The first day is nerve-wracking, especially when he ends up being late.

It's been seventeen years since he's been at Hogwarts - well, seventeen years as a _student_ anyway; sixteen since h's been on the grounds altogether - and he's _still _late to the most important things.

Thankfully, he doesn't interrupt the Sorting and when he comes through the doors and enters the Great Hall, he's relieved when he notices that it's finished.

A part of him is tempted to head over to the Gryffindor table and take a seat, but then he reminds himself that he's a thirty-five-year-old and it really isn't his place to sit at that table anymore. Instead, his place is in one of the empty seats at the front table; the one he's been so used to looking at, watching Dumbledore give many crazy speeches, introducing a new Defence teacher every year… and thinking that he's going to be introduced as one of those new Defence teacher is enough to make him have to take a deep breath to stop his head from spinning so much.

He makes it to the front, sending a small smirk at McGonagall, who's looking at him with narrowed eyes, though there's a smile on her lips that settles Dean, assures him that she hired him because she thinks he's good for this post.

A part of him still can't believe he's back, and the fact he's back as a teacher is making it seem all that more impossible. He found himself pinching his arm all the journey to the castle, waiting to wake up from this dream and find out he's still nothing but a Auror, living in a shitty flat.

But no. He's definitely awake, and he's definitely a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the school he gained his education from.

He sits down next to McGonagall, vaguely noticing that the seat next to him is empty as well, and he finds himself wondering who the hell is in that seat and why they're late as well. He can't think of anyone else that's ever as late as Dean is.

But he shrugs it off as he turns to McGonagall as she says, 'Late as usual, Mr. Winchester.'

'Well, being early is never a good thing, Minerva.' He retorts, sending her a charming wink as his grin widens.

Despite how nervous Dean is about this and how downright weird it was to be chatting casually with the Professor who gave him about a million detentions, he can't deny there's something… _natural _about it; like he was made to do this. And okay, now he has to tell Sammy he was right, as if his younger brother needed an even bigger ego than he already had.

McGonagall says nothing in reply but Dean's pretty sure he's finally managed to embarrass his teacher, something he's been working on since he was eleven-years-old.

He chuckles to himself and decides to dig into his meal, but after a moment, McGonagall stands from her seat and calls the Hall to order.

'As I mentioned earlier, we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who has finally decided to make an appearance at our Welcoming Feast.' Dean looks up to find McGonagall looking at him with mock-admonishment. 'Students, I would like to introduce you to Dean Winchester, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.'

The Hall starts to clap and Dean can feel his throat constrict, because these kids are clapping for _him_ and Dean knows that it's just out of habit; new teacher, a round of applause, it's just something you know you _do_, but it doesn't stop some tears stinging his eyes as he rises from his seat, waving his hand once or twice and nodding his head.

After only a moment or two, he sits back down to hide the burning in his cheeks as the students go back to their meal and Dean decides to do the same. It's been _years _since he's had a meal this amazing - even though Jess is a good cook, nothing can beat those amazing little elves that work in Hogwarts kitchen in Dean's opinion - so maybe that's why he doesn't talk to anyone, and doesn't really look up as he hears the seat beside him move.

He vaguely notices someone sit down beside him, but there's still so much steak left to eat that he doesn't even bother to glance to the side to look at whoever it is that decided to finally appear at the table.

Well… not until the voice speaks and he feels his blood run cold, like someone had just ran sharp nails down a chalkboard.

'A part of me thought I was making it up.' The voice declares and Dean lets the fork he's holding drop back to the plate with a loud clatter. Several other professors look at him with confused expressions, but he's already lifted his head to listen to that familiar voice and as soon as his eyes land on the face, he feels as if all the air has been knocked out of his lungs.

'Cas?' He chokes out, because he's still not one hundred percent sure. But then he sees those eyes, and yep, this is definitely Cas. But… he's _changed_. No longer a gangly teenager that's always an inch or two shorter than Dean; he's still slim and narrow, but this time Dean can see _muscle _under his crisp white shirt.

His features have gotten sharper somehow, but they're still familiar and Dean's just got his breath back when Cas chuckles and it's ripped out of him all over again.

'So, you still remember me? I didn't think you would.' Cas mutters, looking away from him and even though there's still a smile on his face, he's not happy; not pleased. Though, the fact that Dean can still read him after all of these years is enough to make his heart race just a little, and an involuntary smile to appear on his face, despite the words that Cas just spoke.

All the thoughts about Cas, the talks with Sammy about him come hurtling back to him and he decides that this time, he's not going to be the stupid little idiot boy that just locks his feelings inside, instead of telling the person that needs to hear them.

Cas is back in his life, he's damned if he's going to let him walk out of it again.

Dean scoffs, 'Yeah, like I was gonna forget you, Cas.'

It's now Cas' turn for his breath to be punched out of him, and he stares at Dean like he's just saw the sun for the first time. Wide eyes full of wonder and his plump mouth parts in a silent "oh", trying to think of a response to that but failing every time.

'You say that as if you never just walked away from me without a backward glance.' Cas retorts. He doesn't even know why that's the first reply that comes out of his mouth, especially when he knows that going to do nothing but hurt Dean, and the last thing he wants is for Dean to hurt, but he can't seem to help it. He looks down to the plate on in front of him, that still doesn't have any food on it. But now with the shock of seeing Dean Winchester again, he no longer has an appetite.

'You say that as if I was the only one to walk away and shut the other out.' Dean hisses, anger spreading under his skin like wildfire, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath before shakily exhaling. 'I'm not going to argue with you, Cas. I was just a stupid eighteen-year-old that was frightened and scared by everything that was happening.' He admits, shaking his head because no, that's far too vague and will totally give Cas the wrong impression, so he adds, 'and not just with the war crap.'

And with that declaration, something shifts between them and with small, almost hesitant smiles on their faces, they start to catch the other up on their lives for the past sixteen years.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

The whole Hall is empty and they don't seem to notice. Sure, they were aware when McGonagall shouted the Hall to order and told the Prefects to escort the pupils to their Common Rooms, but that was only because they had to fall silent as she spoke.

As soon as the room burst into life again, the students leaving the Hall in an orderly manner, chatting amongst themselves, they start talking again and this time, as everyone at their table leave one by one after that, they don't even notice.

Dean knows he had it bad, but Cas has definitely had it worse. Dean knows that his brother, Lucifer, was kicked out of his home, but only because Cas had told him that when they locked themselves in the Room of Requirements and spilled a hell of a lot of secrets to each other. But apparently, things had gotten much worse; Lucifer got into a big fight with Michael and after a couple horrible attempts to try and kill the other, they both ended up in jail.

After that, Cas tells him that the two that he was closest to, his older brother Gabriel and his younger sister Anna were both killed by Death Eaters whilst he went into hiding, as was his mother.

Dean knew he had another brother, so after asking about Raphael, he's ready to pull Cas into a tight embrace and never let him go, because Cas tells him that Raphael, even though a Muggle, started working for the Death Eaters. Dean thought the Death Eaters were above working with Muggles, but then Cas pointed out that they could use them to get close to Muggle-borns and yeah, Dean won't lie that he places his hand on top of Cas, entwines their fingers together and gives it a comforting squeeze.

He also won't lie that after that, he doesn't pull his hand away either.

It reminds him of the night he told Cas about his mother, and Cas placed his hand on top of Dean's, and didn't move it until they had to go back to their respective Common Rooms; maybe that's another reason he doesn't move his hand or release his grasp.

Cas is open with his life, so Dean feels the need to be the same, even though his whole time during the war was just as bad. He tells him about Jo and Ellen and Ash, and it turns out that it's the first that Cas has heard about it. Not that Dean really blames him, seeing as he was too busy hiding from being either killed or thrown in Azkaban for being Magic, but it still shocks him that sixteen years have passed and he still doesn't know.

He tells him about Sam, how he's married to Jess and how they've got a little girl named Mary after their mother. He tells them about how Sam's a lawyer now, working in saving innocent people in the Wizarding World, and how Jess is a Mediwitch.

He's sure he spends more time than necessary talking about Mary and her short curly hair, and how she's started walking everywhere and doesn't stop laughing.

He also tells him about his time as an Auror; doesn't tell him he hated it but Cas knows. Just like Dean never forget how to read Cas, he never forgot how to read Dean. He knew his friend loathed the job he once considered a dream.

It's Cas' turn to squeeze Dean's hand when they get onto the subject of his father, even though Cas is surprised to learn that they're talking again. That Dean actually knows his half-brother, Adam and sometimes goes to watch some football games with him and John.

'We don't see each other a lot, I don't think we could stand that, but I see him at Christmas and at other special occasions like birthdays, and he was at Mary's Christening too.' Dean explains before falling silent, and that's when Cas' gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

It's also when Dean looks up and realises the room is empty. Completely and utterly empty. Hell, even the Portraits have gone to sleep and left them alone.

And okay, maybe that's the whole reason Dean decides to make a move, because they're alone and there's something familiar about it. Alone, sitting together, no-one watching or caring and it's just the two of them, at Hogwarts, spilling their heart to each other, and okay, so he maybe does give Cas' hand a little tug and presses his lips to Cas' in a brief yet hard kiss.

But then he pulls away, because Cas could've moved on; hell, Cas could be _married _for all he knew, and the handholding was just a comfort thing for Dean's sake, and he has an apology ready on the tip of his tongue when Cas kisses it away.

Cas' free hand comes up to entwine in Dean's blond hair and Dean responds in kind, using his free hand to grab ahold of the collar of Cas' shirt and pull him closer, slide him off the chair that he had angled towards Dean and then pull him onto Dean's lap.

There's teeth and their noses bump together several times as they try to get closer and get _more_ but it's still the best kiss Dean's had in a _long _time, so he's not complaining. Especially when Cas grinds down on his lap, a breathless whimper breaking free from his lips and all Dean can do is moan in return.

'We shouldn't be doing this here.' Cas murmurs as he pulls his lips away from Dean and starts kissing, biting and sucking his way down Dean's neck.

Dean groans, arching his neck to give Cas better access as he replies, 'Hmm, I agree, luckily, I know a place.'

Cas' lips find Dean's once more but after only a brief kiss, Dean pushes him away, sending him a grin before he pats the side of Cas' thighs.

'Up.' He orders and even though Cas looks positively _pissed_, he complies with Dean's request. 'Don't look at me like that, you're the one that said we couldn't do it here.'

Their hands are still entwined and Dean's grin just widens with Cas huffs, but he doesn't reply because that would take time and he knows Cas, and it'll just lead to a small petty argument that'll lead nowhere. And that's not what he wants, especially when that pretty mouth could be put to much better use.

Instead, he just starts to tug Cas out of the Great Hall and to his destination, turning every minute or two to plant a kiss on Cas' lips, before inevitably having to pull back as Cas' hands get too gropey and impatiently start to tug at Dean's belt buckle.

'Y'know, we haven't seen each other in seventeen years.' Cas informs as he sneaks up and wraps his arms around Dean's waist, pulling his hand free in order to do it, before hooking his head over Dean's shoulder.

'I know.' Dean mutters in reply, hoping to God he can find what he's looking for and that he hasn't forgotten where it actually is. He doesn't know where Cas is going with that statement, because to be honest, he really doesn't want the reminder that he hasn't see him in that long.

'Well, I'd say many people would say this is happening too fast.' Cas explains, turning to press a kiss against Dean's jaw. 'It's a little inappropriate, don't you think?'

Another kiss is pressed against Dean's jaw and he can feel the smirk on Cas' lips.

Before Dean can reply, a soft rumbling sound comes from in front of them, and Dean smirks because yes, he still knows his way around Hogwarts; this is good.

'Maybe, but if Hogwarts wants us to screw each other crazy, I'm not going to complain.' Dean mumbles as he places one hand on top of Cas' that's still secured around his waist, before he reaches out and pushes the door open.

They stumble inside of the room that's so different from the last time they were in here. The last time they were here, it was comfortable chairs and a small fire to keep the room warm, and it was small and cosy and comfortable for them - decorated just like Gryffindor Common Room, if they're honest. It was simply a nice place for them to be open with each other.

But now, it was completely different; the floor was one giant mattress, covered in pillows and blankets of black and yellow, and gold and burgundy, and they chuckle when they realise it's for the colours of their old Houses. Candles hover in the air, providing the only light and they also notice that the walls are padded and as the tumble in the room, Cas kicking the door shut behind him, Dean chuckles.

'Hell, Hogwarts not only wants us to fuck, it want it to be kinky.' Dean mumbles as he waves a hand towards the padded walls and chuckles again, but it's cut short when Cas presses his lips to Dean's again, pushing them down on to the mattress covered floor.

His hands go straight for Dean's belt and makes quick to get rid of it, but they don't do anything else as Dean's hands decide to focus on getting Cas rid of his shirt, his hands eagerly spreading themselves across the planes of Cas' back after he sits back and throws his shirt away, before he lies back on top of Dean once more.

His lips descend onto Dean's and Dean groans, his hands trailing up Cas' back before entwining themselves in his dark, messy black hair, ruffling it and making it worse and he feels a little proud that tomorrow Cas is going into his class with sex hair.

Though, so will Dean and isn't that just going to make the best first impression.

But when Cas grinds himself up against Dean as he starts biting just under Dean's jaw, he realises that he really doesn't give a fuck about what his students think about him tomorrow, when he strolls in with sex hair and probably the same clothes he wore to the Welcoming Feast tonight.

He moans again and his hands go straight for Cas' belt, unfastening it and sliding it out of the belt hoops on his jeans. He then unbuttons and unzips them, before pushing them down over those gorgeous fucking hips and why haven't they been doing this all along? Why haven't they been together for sixteen years if this is what they could've been doing?

'I've missed you.' Cas murmurs against his neck as his hands trail down Dean's chest, over his stomach before tracing his finger back and forth over the skin just above his trousers. He pops the button before catching the metal zip between his finger and thumb, but he doesn't unzip the fastener just yet. 'Did you miss me?'

He's not looking at Dean when he asks the last question, his eyes are somewhere just above Dean's head and Dean's suddenly reminded of the teenage boy that was his best friend all those years ago.

Dean swallows hard before his hand comes up to cup Cas' cheek, his thumb brushing across his cheekbone, and it once again reminds him of that first day of Hogwarts when things started to fall apart between him and Cas; when he cupped Cas' cheek and ran his thumb over the cut that was there.

'Every fucking day.' Dean replies before he surges up and captures Cas' lips in his again, and he feels Cas smile against his lips before he feels his zip being pulled down and his jeans are suddenly being pushed down over his ass and hips, and Cas breaks away from Dean's mouth with a soft pop as he moves to pull them down over Dean's thighs before throwing them over his shoulder when they're finally off his person. He then quickly rids himself of his own before leaning over Dean once more, gazing down into Dean's eyes with a soft, caring expression on his face.

He looks over to his left before he starts to chuckle, and Dean can't help but frown.

'What?'

Cas shakes his head, moving one hand out to grab something and when Dean notices what it is, he laughs as well, even as a blush paints his cheeks.

'Lube? Hogwarts really is a kinky son of a bitch, ain't it?'

His laughter is cut short by the growing smirk on Cas' face, as he flicks open the cap of the bottle and squirts a generous amount onto his fingers. He readjusts himself into a better position, lying beside Dean instead of over him, pressing up against his side in a long line, before he lowers his fingers between Dean's legs and traces his hole.

Cas catches Dean's earlobe between his teeth and Dean can hear his sharp, heavy breathing, even as he gnaws on Dean's ear. He feels his finger slowly breaching him, and Cas just remains still for a moment as Dean sucks a breath in, shaky and it catches on his throat and turns into a sob on his exhale, as Cas thrusts his finger out and back in at a slow pace that still has Dean curling his toes and clenching around Cas.

He slides another finger in with the next thrust and Dean gasps, his eyes flying open, and when the hell did he close them in the first place? That thought is quickly chased from his mind as Cas picks up the pace, adding a third finger and a bit more lube, and Hogwarts really did come prepared because it wasn't even cold.

'Cas… I need you.'

'How much?' Cas questions, pressing a kiss to Dean's jaw before kissing his cheekbone. He pulls back and there's a stupid fucking grin on his lips.

'I swear to fucking God, Cas, I've been waiting seventeen fucking years for this, now get inside me.'

With Dean's words, something seems to snap inside of Cas and he pulls his fingers out of Dean, before pouring some lube onto his hand and then he slicks some on his cock. He rolls over so he's now on top of Dean once more, lining himself up with Dean's hole, before he presses his lips to Dean's in a harsh kiss as he sinks into him.

'Oh, f-fuck!' Dean gasps out as Cas starts a punishing pace, apparently deciding that he's opened up and teased Dean enough. He curls his hand around Dean's cock, fisting Dean in time with his thrusts, twisting his wrist, running his thumb over the slit, hitting his prostate with every thrust and Dean's finding it harder to breath, gasping hard and fast.

Cas' lips are just resting against Dean's now, just sharing each other's breath. Dean's eyes are open wide as he watches Cas' face, and he almost chokes when he sees the expression on his face. He always thought Cas was closed off, hardly ever showing how he felt, but now he was here, buried deep inside Dean and he can see _everything_. There's passion and lust and openness, and holy fucking shit… no. He's imagining that look.

But no, as Cas crushes his lips against Dean's once more, he can no longer see it but can _feel _it, and fucking God, there's _love _in his expression, in his kiss, in his thrusts.

And with one well aimed thrust, an amazing twist of Cas' wrist and the revelation that after all these years, Castiel Novak still fucking _loves _him, he gasps Cas' name as he comes, painting his stomach with white streaks.

Everything clenches; hands gripping on the pillows beneath him, toes curling into the mattress.

Seeing Dean come undone, a sight that he's thought about seeing an embarrassing amount of times, punches Cas' orgasm out of him. He clenches his eyes shut, Dean's name a silent gasp on his lips as he spills inside him, letting out a peaceful gasp before he collapses on top of Dean, not exactly caring about the come that's now also covering his stomach.

They're not sure how long passes - it could've been seconds, minutes, hell, even hours - but eventually Cas rolls off of Dean with a soft groan, but Dean quickly rolls over so he's sprawled out over Cas' body, his hand coming up to trace his finger over Cas' collarbone.

'We should probably move.'

'Nah, it's comfy here; Hogwarts wanted us to have sex, sleepily make out and then sleep. That's why there's so many pillows and comfy things.' Dean mumbles as he closes his eyes, pressing a kiss to the base of Cas' throat and kisses his way up until he's pressing his lips against Cas' who smiles.

He pulls back briefly to mutter, 'That sounds like a good idea,' before he surges up to claim Dean's lips once more.

And okay, if he's late for his class and misses his breakfast, or more importantly, his coffee, he really doesn't care.

He's got Dean Winchester lying beside him. Finally.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

It's been four months since Dean and Cas found themselves reunited; four months since that night in the Room of Requirements where they finally admitted, and acted, on those feelings that had been eating away at them for the past eighteen years, and they've been together ever since. It took a day or two before they finally managed to sit down and talk about what they wanted; whether it was just going to be awesome sex - which it was - or whether it was going to be "something more" and they both realised they couldn't just have sex. They meant too much to each other; they wanted sleepy morning waking up next to each other, nights grading essays side by side on the couch, soft touches and helping the other get dressed… as well as the incredible, mind-blowing sex.

Soon after that realisation, Dean moved into Cas' apartment, mainly because the only place he had was a room in Hogwarts, and he'd much rather have a nice flat with Cas instead of a lonely room, sneaking out to see Cas every night, like they were back to being students all over again.

They were adults now; decisions like this were possible. He could _have _that life, without worrying about anything.

So yes, it's been four months since Dean and Cas got together, and they've finally got their first holiday together; Christmas. Sam's talked them into joining him and Jess for dinner, but they've got a good couple of days before they have to leave for his house.

And as Dean lazily combs his hand through Cas' hair, something comes back to his mind. Something he's been thinking about ever since he started teaching the Sixth Years about Patronuses.

'Hey, Cas?'

'Yes, Dean?' Cas mutters as he stops for a moment, feather of his quill resting against his chin as he reads through one of his student's essay on Transfiguration, and briefly turns his head to gaze at Dean.

'What did you think about, all those years ago when your first produced your Patronus?' Dean questions, because he can remember people asking him that question and he shook his head and changed the topic, ignoring every single ones of those questions, no matter who it came from.

Which is exactly what he does now, 'You don't want to know that.'

He moves, pushing the essay away, clearly no longer able to concentrate on his marking.

'C'mon! Yeah I do!'

Cas stares at him, bright azure eyes studying Dean for a split second before he turns his head away from him, his eyes dropping down to the carpeted floor and purposefully looking away from Dean before he even thinks about continuing.

He lets out a shaky breath before he states, 'I thought of how you had finally noticed me.'

Dean stares at him for a moment, before he lets out a whistle that turns into a chuckle, 'Wow, you really were hung up on me, weren't you? Not that I can blame you.' He chuckles again. 'I was a gorgeous kid.'

Cas' eyes shoot towards Dean again, and when he notices the teasing smirk on his face, he shoves Dean's shoulder. It's a relief to finally admit that aloud, but somehow, it means more to him that Dean isn't pushing him away for being obsessive; instead he's almost… happy with the knowledge.

Dean shakes his head in wonder before he leans down, his hand winding its way around Cas' neck and he pulls him close, pressing a kiss against his lips with a wide smile upon his lips as he does so.

'I love you, Cas.' Dean declares as he pulls away, resting his forehead against Cas' for a moment, his green eyes looking into Cas' bright blue ones, a tender smile finding his way onto his lips like it always does when he says those words to Cas.

'Yeah, I love you too, Dean.' Cas replies before he pulls Dean back for another slow, passionate kiss that confirms those words and more.

**THE END.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>i cannot believe this is finished. like seriously. i remember writing this for NaNo like it was yesterday, and now it's finished?! uhh, wow! thank you all so much for your support for this fic, you have no idea how much it means to me, and i love you all!<strong>_

_**please review and let me know what you thought, of the epilogue and the story in general!**_

_**for more info on me, and to know what i'm writing and such, i have a facebook and a tumblr page, both of which are on my profile. my tumblr is ineedmyfallenangel, and my facebook is lottielovebuzz's fanfiction! hope to see you at either of them!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


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